Nomad
by amahnak
Summary: Donovan Iniman isn't the best at settling down. He has a bad habit of picking up and moving when things go south. His latest move lands him in the coastal resort town of Oraton. Don makes fast friends with some of Oraton's residents, which is a much-needed solace. However, Don is eventually pulled into matters that'll put his relationships and resolve to the test.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you have any idea where you're going?"

Rover wears a concerned face. His tail twitches.

I shift in my seat uncomfortably. "I know the name of the town, but I have no idea what's in store for me." I say.

"And you're moving there?" he asks.

"Yep."

"When's the last time you and I had this talk? 2013?"

"We were much younger then, Ro." I say.

"Nonsense," he laughs. "We were only 16."

"Feels like ages ago."

"It still surprises me that you'll up and move to places you know nothing about, Don." he says, rolling his eyes. "I thought you'd finally find a place to settle down for good."

"That won't happen soon," I say, with a smile.

Rover stares at me. I feel as if he's studying my face. His bright red eyes seem to pierce through me.

"I guess that is one of your most likable traits," he says with a small laugh. "You're adventurous."

"Thanks," I say. "You spend more time riding the rails than I do, though. Maybe you could come stay with me sometime?"

"I'd like that," he says, furrowing his brow, "but you need to tell me the name of this damn town, first!"

"Oraton," I say.

The blue cat's ear twitches. He smiles and closes his eyes. "I've been there a few times," he says.

"Oh?"

"Yep. My family used to take vacations there. It's pretty much a resort town. Beaches, campsites, hotels, the lot of it. Endless things to do. Most people are tourists. They don't really settle down there."

"I'll be one of the few," I say. "At least for a little bit."

"Geez, do you plan on living everywhere in the world?" Rover teases with a grin.

Rover pulls his phone from his pocket and begins texting. I turn and stare out the window on my right. Our train is gliding across the tracks. Green hills roll beside us, grass and tree branches flowing in the breeze. Cars on the road zoom by, packed so closely together that one would think they were travelling together like wolves. In the distance, around a small bend over the freeway, an enormous red drawbridge towers over everything. It stretches across the sound. I can see vehicles making their way across the mighty structure.

"Take a look at that," I say, tapping Rover's thigh. He looks out the window and a grin stretches across his face.

"I haven't seen that thing in ages," he says, beaming. "That's the Mallard's Stretch. Tallest and longest bridge in Lower Derure."

"It's beautiful..."

I can feel excitement burning in my chest as we get closer to the bridge. We round the bend and eventually the tracks lead us onto the Mallard's Stretch. I stare out the window, tightly gripping Rover's arm. The ocean stretches endlessly into the horizon. The evening sun casts ivory diamonds across the blue water. The sparkles dance and shimmer on the surface. Now that the railroad has led us to join the other vehicles on the bridge, I feel as if we're all rushing toward whatever awaits us together.

"You are squeezing me so tightly..."

I let go of Rover and chuckle. "Sorry, buddy," I say. "I'm just excited as hell right now."

"I can definitely tell."

Rover smiles and throws his arm over the back of his seat. "You never did get to see the ocean that often, did you?" he asks.

"Nope. Mom and I never really had the chance. I've only been twice, and both times were when I joined you and your dad at Bolson's Cove."

He nods. "Yeah, sounds about right. I think you'll love Oraton, though. It'll be a big change for you."

Rover spends the remainder of his time on the train telling me what I should do when I first get to Oraton. He tells me to look for a man named Nook. Apparently he's the guy who knows how to get people settled there. Rover says he's an old friend. Rover and I are the same age, though. I certainly haven't heard of this Nook guy before. Perhaps I have, though. I wasn't the _greatest_ listener when I was a child. That was Rover's biggest pet peeve about me. I heard what he was saying, but nothing ever registered. Thankfully, I've grown. Eventually the landscape melts into darkness as we enter a tunnel and begin to pull into Oraton Station. People, both humans and animals, begin to shuffle and make their way off the locomotive.

"Like I said," starts Rover, "look for Nook. He'll know exactly what you need. I already let him know you're on the way."

"Thanks a lot," I say. "Hopefully this town does me some good."

"I sure hope so. You need it."

I pull my bag tight on my back and pick up my suitcase. I shuffle out of the aisle and to the closest door. Rover and I exchange a hug and wave goodbye.

"Take care, Donovan. Call me when you get things worked out."

"Will do, buddy. Thanks again."

I wander out into the station with countless other passengers. The smell of fast food permeates the air. I can hear the bustle of voices, footsteps, and the sizzling of concession stand grills. I make my way through the crowds and exit the station, grabbing a town map from a vendor on my way out. On the map, a place called Nook's Homes is located in the shopping district, specifically on the west strip mall. The shopping district is on the other side of the tracks, behind the train station. I pocket the map and head on my way.

As I ascend the stairs to the upper level of town, Rover crosses my mind, despite the fact I just left him. Rover and I have been close friends for a very long time. I first met him when we were children on a train. We were five years old when we first met in 2002. I was heading to work with my mother, and Rover was on his way home from a shopping trip with his father. The image pops into my head quite often. My mother struck up conversation with Rover's father when she saw Rover and I making faces at each other. Mom laughed and moved over to join Rover's dad. Most things are blurry after that, but it turned out Rover lived in the same city as me. He just attended a different school. A school that was more tolerant of animals. My mother and Rover's father struck a friendship that day, and we saw a lot of each other. Rover's been my best friend ever since. He's done a ton for me. I feel sort of indebted, in a way...

"Watch where you're going, please."

I snap out of it and look up from the ground. A short, yellow Shih Tzu stands in front of me, brochure in hand. She's wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and casual sandals. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun. I look around and notice that I've bumped into a group of tourists.

"Oops...Sorry about that." I say, with an awkward laugh. "I was sorta lost in thought."

"You're not part of this group, are you?" asks the girl. She has a bit of a low, tomboyish voice.

"No." I say. "I'm supposed to be moving here today."

The girl's expression changes. She smiles and nods at me. "Then that means you're probably heading to see Tom, hm?" she asks, looking me up and down.

"Tom?" I ask.

"Tom Nook."

"Ah, that'd be him."

"Then I'll be seeing you in the town hall soon enough. I'm the mayor's secretary."

"And a tour guide, apparently...?" I ask, glancing at the people behind her. They're focused on their phones or vendors' tents on the front plaza of the town clock tower.

The girl shrugs. "Our mayor thought it would be good for a town representative to interact with the people more," she says, rolling her eyes.

We share a laugh.

"Anyway," she starts, "what's your name?"

"I'm Don," I say. "You?"

"Isabelle."

She extends her hand. I shake it. She has a firm grip. She leaves me with a smile and returns to her group. The bell on her hair tie jingles as she saunters away. I reach the shopping center as my bags begins to strain my shoulders. The shopping center is quite vast, with plenty of stores and businesses crammed together down alleyways. It's very lively. Many humans and animals out and about. There are a plethora of cherry blossoms and fruit trees in the pots and small gardens lining the sidewalks of the shopping district. There are plenty of buildings, one standing much taller than the rest. It's the clock tower from before. It must be at least fifty feet taller than the surrounding buildings.

I reach the end of the shopping district. There's a single yellow bench situated at the edge of the cliff, right in front of the guardrail. I take a peek over the edge. To my left, down the few hundred steps I climbed, the lower level of town stretches for a few miles or so. To the northeast, the Mallard's Stretch looms like giant in the distance. It rises from the water and towers menacingly. From up on this ledge, I can see a river running through the far east side of town through a campsite. It runs over a small waterfall into another stream that leads straight into the ocean. I can see countless umbrellas and figures on the beach.

I guess quiet won't be part of this lifestyle. This town is insanely beautiful, and I can definitely see why people come here.

After a few moments longer of my gawking, I back away from the bench and head back toward the main shopping district. I walk toward a small blue building with a large yellow sign.

**_NOOK'S HOMES_**

I take a deep breath and head inside. The small store gives me a break from the bustle outside. The store has various models of houses and patios atop desks, as well as siding, shingles, and other materials. An otter with thick black glasses sits at the front desk. He beckons me over.

"Name's Lyle," he says. "Nook's partner."

"Don," I say.

He turns around and scoots a few feet away from his desk in his rolling chair.

"TOM!" he shouts, cupping his paws around his mouth. "KID'S HERE!"

I jump a bit.

Another animal emerges from a back room. He's an older raccoon, with tired blue eyes and a few grey hairs in his brown fur. He has bags under his eyes. He's dressed nicely. Vest over a button-up with dress pants and shoes. He hurries over and greets me with a smile.

"You must be Don," he says, politely.

"That's me," I say.

"My name is Tom Nook," he says, shaking my hand. "Rover told me a bit about you."

"I trust it was good information...?"

"Ohoho, of course!"

Nook leads me to his office. "Right, right," he says, sitting at his desk. "Let's get to business, hm?"

He lays out several documents across a large town map.

"I have four vacant homes ready for move-in," he says. There are four thumbtacks stuck in the map, pinpointing the location of the homes. One is near the river, one is near the train station, one is near the shopping district, and one is right beside the campsite. "These are the only four standalone homes I have available," he says. "I also own an apartment complex in the lower level of town, near the beach. Rent is cheaper, but you'd have to deal with noisy neighbors. It's also a bit far from here." I zone out as Nook details the four vacant houses and compares them to his apartments. I'm more than used to noisy neighbors and bustle of streets. Besides, he said rent is cheaper.

"What do you think?" he asks.

"Personally, I've got my eye on those apartments." I say.

Nook smiles and places his hands on the desk. "Perhaps you'd like to head out there, tomorrow?"

"I'd love to."

Nook arranges a time for us to meet at his apartment complex tomorrow afternoon. After half an hour of more discussion, we say goodnight and part ways. It _would_ make sense to go tomorrow. I showed up right before Nook was supposed to close up shop. I pushed him twenty minutes over. Regardless, Nook bids me farewell and suggest that I head to town hall to get a head-start on citizen registration. I check my map see that the town hall is away from the shopping center and closer to the train station. I make my way over there and see that the town hall is the building I saw earlier-the clock tower. Turns out the entire building is used for different reasons. Oddly, the town hall is on the top floor... I head up the elevator and step out into the town hall. I can't quite wrap my head around the layout of this building. Inside the office, a single animal sits at the front desk. She sits up and stares at me as I walk toward the desk.

"Hi, Isabelle," I say.

"Hi there," she says, giving me a sleepy look. "Had a feeling I'd be seeing you soon."

"This office is really quiet." I say, looking out the window and down at the busy streets. The sun has set. The plaza is illuminated by yellow fairy lights suspended from poles.

"It's peaceful." says Isabelle. "Lonely, but peaceful. The only people that really come in here are business owners and new residents."

I glance past her at the empty desk in the back.

"Where's the mayor?"

"She's been out of town for a week. Said she had urgent business with family."

I exaggerate a nod and my gaze drifts to the side. There's a dry, old piece of coral on the edge of Isabelle's desk. She notices that I'm staring at it. She pushes it toward me. I pick it up and examine it. It's blue and covered in tiny pores. I hand it to Isabelle. She stares at it blankly before smiling faintly.

"It's a gift," she says. "The mayor found out I liked seashells and brought me this a few days after she arrived."

She sets it back on the corner of her desk and sighs. "It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but the fact that she thought of me was good enough."

Isabelle smiles again and turns to her computer. "We should get started on your registration. Can I get your full name?"

"Donovan Iniman."

After an hour of paperwork, I'm officially registered as a citizen of Oraton. I take my papers and stuff them into a folder in my bag. Isabelle puts her copies in a desk drawer.

"Don, I have a question," she says.

I slightly cock my head to the side. "Hm?"

"Do you even have a place to stay yet?"

My heart sinks a bit. "N-No," I say. "I'm supposed to go to Nook's apartments down in Lower Town tomorrow. I suppose I'll have to stay in a motel tonight."

Isabelle yawns and nods. "Most likely," she says. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Not like it's your fault."

"Funny story-I gave the mayor a pity tent to stay in the night she moved here. She was in the same situation as you."

I laugh as a grin stretches across my face. "I don't suppose you've any more tents?"

Isabelle giggles and shakes her head. "Unfortunately, no."

We finish our laugh and have a moment of silence.

"It's sort of customary for me to show new residents around town," Isabelle says, rolling away from her desk. "I was doing something like that earlier with those tourists. Do you need me to do that?"

"I'll be fine." I say. "Thank you for the offer."

Isabelle stretches and heads over to a coffee maker next to the window. "Well, I've got plenty more to do tonight. You should probably find some place to stay."

I stand up and pull my bags close. "You're probably right," I say.

Isabelle yawns again and loosens her hair tie, letting her hair fall out of the bun and curl around her shoulders. "It was nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy living here."

"I hope I do too," I say as I head to the elevator.

"Have a good night!" she calls.

"You too! Thanks for all your help!"

She gives me a thumbs-up as the elevator doors close, blocking her from my view. I stand alone in the trembling metal box as it descends to the ground floor. I head outside to the plaza and call Rover.

"Hello?" he says.

"Hey," I say. "I'm a citizen now. I'm supposed to go see apartments with Nook tomorrow."

"Ah, good work."

"He seems like a nice guy."

"Oh, he is. That old tanuki has a big heart."

Not a raccoon. Oops.

"Anyway," I start, "I'm probably gonna book a room somewhere. I'll need to start looking for a job soon."

"That's right," Rover says. "Can't live on savings forever."

"I hope the trip to Lower Town works out. It'd make moving in much quicker."

"You'll do just fine. Want me to help move your stuff?"

"That'd be a great help. I'll call Mom tomorrow after Nook and I meet, though."

"Alright, sounds like a plan. I'll see you soon."

"Thanks, Rover."

I put my phone away and take a look at the people scurrying to and fro. A man beside me taps my shoulder. He's a human man with medium-length black hair and a goatee. "Excuse me," he says. "I overheard you were looking for work?"

"...I am, yes." I say.

"There's a small cafe in town that's looking to hire. It's pretty popular."

"Is it close by?"

He points toward the shopping district. "It's situated on one of the side-streets around the restaurants," he says. "It's called The Roost."

I thank the man and fish my phone from my pocket. It's time to find a place to lay my head tonight. My first evening in Oraton has been productive. I can only hope it's smooth sailing from here.


	2. Chapter 2

I slept in the bathtub.

When I checked into the cheapest motel I could find last night, I immediately realized it wasn't much. The disgusting room I was given seemed to coincide with the ridiculously cheap price. Dirty carpet, sheets, and mattress. A hole in the wall near the door. Suspicious stains on the ceiling and walls. The smell of alcohol and old cigarettes soaked into the carpet. I even went up to the front desk to request another room, but the slim fox in the office certainly wasn't having it. Surprisingly, the cleanest part of the room was the bathroom. I found cleaning spray and supplies under the sink. I cleaned the bathtub to the best of my ability and slept with a thin throw and neck pillow I had in one of my bags. I could only sleep for an hour or so at a time. When I was awake, I simply stared at the ceiling.

I woke up an hour ago and I'm still sitting in this damn tub. Sunlight shines through the raggedy blinds covering the window. My lack of sleep, alongside the mixed scents of cleaner and alcohol, have given me a raging headache. This morning certainly hasn't started on a great note. My meeting with Nook isn't until two o'clock this afternoon. It's not even nine in the morning yet. I groan and throw my head back, missing my pillow and cracking the back of my dome against the bathroom wall. I refrain from shouting swears as I climb out of the tub and return my things to my bag. After a painfully cold shower, I dress myself and stare into the mirror.

My hazel eyes have never seemed more tired. Last night's struggle has given me bags. I do my best to style my short brown hair into a quiff, failing as wet strands fall out of place on my forehead. I do my best to dry my hair with one of my towels and manage to make my hair presentable, at least. As much as I hate to say it, I don't have anywhere else to leave my bags. I certainly can't drag them around with me all day. I decide to leave them in the bathtub. I lock the bathroom door and the room door, bringing only my wallet and keys.

I manage to avoid making eye contact with the fox at the desk. He's busy rambling to a horse about a painting. I squint as I step into the sunlight. Fortunately, the motel is located near the beach. Nook's apartments are less than half a mile away. I just have to find something to do until it's time to meet him. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon and it's caught up to me. I walk out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. I see groups of people and animals already making their way to the shore. I notice a rather burly grey bear carrying several beach chairs on his back. The girl beside him, a human, cheerfully carries blankets. They smile as they look at each other. Perhaps they're dating?

I head to a small diner down the street. Hopefully I don't walk in there smelling like cigarettes...

...

Several hours later and I'm awaiting Nook's arrival. It's one-thirty now. I'm sitting on a bench near the lot of Nook's apartment complex, anxiously bouncing my leg. There are four levels to the complex. The exterior of the building is white. A large window runs down the length of the left side of the building, allowing the stairwell visibility. Each room on this side of the building has a small black balcony and access to a fire escape. After a few minutes of staring at the building, I see a white SUV pull into the lot. The words "Nook's Homes" are on the side, as well as a few phone numbers.

"There's my man," I mumble as I make my way over to Nook's car. He steps out and greets me with a smile. "Early as well," he says. "I like that." He opens his arms and waves a hand through the air, motioning to his complex.

"I noticed you were more interested in my apartments from the get-go," he says. "Are you a city person, by chance?"

"Yes sir," I say. "I most recently lived in Finkene."

"Oho, that's quite a metropolis. Far from Oraton—literally and figuratively!"

Nook chuckles and leads me toward the building with an arm around my shoulder. As we head toward the doors of the front lobby, my gaze drifts upward. On one of the balconies of the fourth level, a light grey wolf leans against his window, arms crossed. He watches us walk along for at least a minute. I shudder a bit.

"Normally I'd get Lyle or one of my other associates to do these sorts of meetings. " says Nook. "I have quite a lot of business to tend to, you see, so I always feel as if my methods are impersonal."

"That's reasonable, though," I say.

"Perhaps. Anyway, I had to make an exception to meet you, Don. I've never been contacted by Rover directly unless it's something worth my time. Rover's always been a splendid young man. I'm inclined to believe you are, as well."

"That's flattering, really." I smile at Nook, earning a warm beam from the older tanuki.

"We can finish our talk another time, though. I believe it's time for business, yes?"

Nook and I make our way to an office behind the reception desk. He takes a seat and logs into a computer. I sit across from him, bouncing my legs once again. Nook's eyes dart from side to side. I can just barely see the reflection of the monitor in his blue eyes. After a few moments of "hms", "hums", and impatient clicks of the mouse, Nook turns the computer monitor toward me.

"I've five vacancies," he says. "Two on the first floor, one on the second and third, and another on the fourth. All my homes come fully furnished."

He points to the screen. It displays the floor plans of each available apartment. Each apartment is identical, save for the third-floor vacancy. That plan has only one bathroom, but with a slightly larger kitchen area. Then he lists what is and isn't allowed in the complex.

"Do you have any idea of which plan you'd like to go see first?" asks Nook.

"The third-level plan caught my eye," I say. "I'd like to see that one before anything."

Nook nods and mumbles to himself as he stands. He grabs a folder and heads to a back room to retrieve a key. He thanks me for my patience and leads me to the elevator. As we ascend, the image of that wolf watching me burns itself into my mind. I don't know what it is, but it makes me shudder again. He was probably just getting some fresh air and happened to glance down. It's not every day that you see one of the biggest businessmen in town walk around with some random guy. Still, the way he stared...

I close my eyes and push the thought from my mind. I follow Nook out of the elevator and down the hall. We stop at the door numbered three-zero-seven. Nook unlocks it and ushers me inside. The living area is openly connected to the kitchen. A black leather sofa and recliner face the wall, with the sliding glass door to the balcony on the right. There's a black coffee table in the middle of the living room. The light grey carpet of the room meets the black hardwood floor of the dining area and kitchen. The kitchen has white marble countertops. There is one storage closet. The walls of the apartment are a medium grey. Nook smiles and folds his hands together as I explore. I open the door to the left of the entrance. It's a bedroom. The provided bed is a king-size. There's a small walk-in closet that connects to the bathroom. I exit the room and walk back into the common area.

"How do we feel about this one?" Nook asks.

I nod and smile. "Honestly, it's pretty much perfect."

Nook smiles and chuckles. He sets his folder back in to the crook of his arm. "I'm glad you think so. I'd say this home has everything, but I can't, really. No washing machine or dryers in here. Each floor has its own common laundry room. Will that be okay?"

"Of course. Reminds me a bit of college dorms. Nothing I'm not used to."

Nook smiles again. "Are you sure you don't want to look at the other vacancies, just in case?"

"I'm fine, sir, thank you. I'm quite happy with this one."

The old tanuki nods. He locks the apartment again and we make our way to the elevator. It's time to delve into the world of business—also known as the world of paperwork, contracts, and rent. After an hour more of discussion with Nook, I've signed a lease and paid a security deposit. Thank heavens for my savings over the past few years or I'd be dangerously low on bells. Working during college and in between semesters was smart. The first time I moved after college, I ended up in a bad financial situation in Finkene because I tried to do things without breaking into my savings. Thankfully, I've loosened up. My mother has been adamant about sending me what she can, too, even though I insist she doesn't. I'm quite grateful.

"I knew there was something special about you, my boy." Nook says as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "Most people tend to drag things out. You got straight to business and you've been polite the whole time."

"I like to be concise as possible when it comes to things like this," I explain. "I know people don't want their time wasted."

"You're quite considerate. I'm glad Rover sent you. We've barely known each other for a full twenty-four hours and you're already off to a better start than most people I've met in my entire life."

"I aim to stay on your good side, sir. You're very welcoming. I don't want that to be for nothing."

"As long as you stay on top of payments, rules, and honesty, we'll be just fine. Now, I believe we're done for the day. You should return to the town hall when you have a chance. The mayor's secretary will need your new address to update your records."

"Do you know everyone in town, sir? It seems like most people here got word that I was coming."

He laughs and taps his chest. "Oh, no. I'm acquainted with almost every major business owner in town, as well as public services. I've been here for a very long time, but I'm not omnipotent. Housing, public records, and things like that are more closely related than you'd think, so I keep people up to date. That's how Isabelle knew to expect you. She's always been a sweet girl. Proficient in her line of work. In fact, I believe you two are around the same age? How old are you, my boy?"

"Twenty-two, sir."

"Ah, I see. She may be a year or two older. She's a hard worker. She used to be quite timid, but she's become bold and strong with her experience. She's had trouble with the mayor for a while. Regardless, she gets her job done. Don't forget to visit her sometime soon."

"Will do, sir. Thank you very much."

"It's my pleasure, Don. Feel free to call me 'Tom'."

I hope Nook is as kind when I end up moving in the future. Like Rover mentioned, I never plan on staying in one city for too long. The longest I've stayed in one place was Finkene, ironically. It started off as a disaster but things came together. Stayed there for two and a half years.

I finally bid Nook farewell with a handshake. The receptionist in the front lobby, a human woman, eyes me as I pass her. "You're quite a sweet-talker," she says. "Don't get on Tom's bad side." I give her a forced smile and bite my lip as I exit the building. I start off toward the motel. It's six in the evening. The sky is beginning to melt into a creamy orange and purple, accented by fluffy clouds made fiery by the evening glow. I waste no time in clearing my belongings out of the motel. After checking out, I hear the fox call to me.

"Thank you for choosing Redd's Motel! Come stay with us again!"

"Fat chance!" I reply with a rather rude snicker as I head back down the sidewalk. I return to the apartment complex and head up to the third floor. I unlock the door to my new home and step inside. After I've moved my possessions inside and have sorted them into their appropriate places, I step out onto my balcony. The colorful, fiery sky has settled into a dark night. I can see stars twinkle above as clouds pass by, constantly changing shape. It's a bit windy.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, inhaling the salty scent of the ocean. I call Rover.

"Evening," he says, yawning.

"Did you just wake up?" I ask, laughing.

"Maybe..." he grumbles. "Naps are quite nice."

"Anyway, I sorted things out! I'm standing on the balcony of my new apartment."

"Good on you, Donder. I'm glad things went well. Tom messaged me before I fell asleep. He told me he likes you a lot."

"Don't call me that again or I'll kill you, Ro."

My best friend laughs his nasally laugh at me, distorted by the phone call. "Can't do much through the phone, Donder. We aren't kids anymore, but the names never die!"

"Just wait until you come to visit. I'm gonna embarrass you."

"The beaches of Oraton won't know what hit 'em when we get together. Don't wait around for me to visit, though. Get out there and make some new friends! That town is full of people!"

"I'll need some friends, but I have things to take care of first! I'm gonna be busy."

"That's right. My little Donder is a bum and needs a job!"

Rover and I pick at each other for a while until we decide we've had enough. He reminds me to tell my mother about my successful move-in in order to prepare for moving some of my possessions from my old place in the city. We wish each other goodnight. I pocket my phone and tap the railing of my balcony in glee. I glance up toward the moon as a grin stretches across my face. Today went better than I could've expected. I managed to make a great impression on Tom Nook and get moved into my new home on my second day in Oraton. Things have started wonderfully. I text my mother to notify her of the day's events. She tells me that she's off of work this Saturday and arranges to bring some of my belongings from Finkene.

I glance down toward the other balconies of the complex. A few people are standing on theirs, either playing music or watching traffic. I look up toward the level above me. A few balconies to my right, on the fourth level, I spot _him_. My heart skips a beat. The grey wolf is leaning on the railing of his balcony, staring out toward the shore. I watch him silently for a few minutes until he glances down toward me. I jump, but we lock eyes. We stare at each other for a few moments, although it seems like eternity. His fur ruffles lightly in the breeze. He releases his grip on the railing and puts a hand on his hip. He nods at me. I nod in reply. He turns back to the shore. I head inside and close the sliding glass door. I've almost had two heart attacks because of him.

His stare makes me feel so tiny. Perhaps his scrutiny is an unwritten part of my lease. Curse you, Tom Nook. You never told me that each home comes with an intimidating neighbor! I chuckle to myself and take a seat in the recliner. The silence of the apartment is broken by the distinctive squeak of leather. I become antsy as I shift around in the chair. Part of me wants to go straight to sleep, but I could use something to eat. I feel the lurking urge to get out and see a bit of Lower Town. As I get up, I hear a knock at my door. I walk softly to it and look through the peephole. It's two wolves. A brown one in a leather jacket and the grey one from before in a bomber. The grey's a bit buff. More muscular than I noticed.

I swallow hard and open the door. "Y-Yes...?" I ask, leaning on the door frame.

"Hi!" pipes the brown wolf, in a somewhat high-pitched voice. "We heard you were the new move-in. We never see anyone hangin' around with Nook himself, so we came to introduce ourselves and give you a welcome, alpha."

He smiles a toothy smile, his tail wagging slightly.

"That's very nice of you," I say, grinning. I glance at the grey wolf. His bright yellow eyes are fixed on me.

"I've seen you around a few times, cha-chomp." He has a deep, gruff voice. A bit monotone. "My roommate insisted we introduce ourselves to the new neighbor."

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his muzzle, although he's still studying me up and down. I feel a bit of my nervousness wash away. I return the smile.

"I'm Kyle," says the brown wolf, "and this here's my buddy Fang!"

Fang nods at me.

"I'm Donovan," I say. "It's nice to meet you guys."

"It's nice to have a name for the face I've had staring contests with today," says Fang.

"Indeed it is."

Kyle nudges Fang. Fang extends his arm, holding a small gift bag out to me.

"Oh geez," I say, "you guys didn't need to do anything like this!"

"Don't worry one bit," says Kyle, pridefully. "I always give housewarming gifts. It's nothing big. Just a few baked goods."

"Thank you! Really, this is great!"

His smile stretches from ear to ear. His tail is wagging a bit faster now.

"I'm glad you guys caught me," I say. "I was just about to leave and get something to eat. Maybe explore town a bit. I've never been to Oraton 'til now."

"If you ever need a quick bite to eat, I definitely recommend The Roost," says Kyle. "Best café in Oraton."

"The Roost... Yeah, I heard about that place yesterday. Heard they were hiring."

"Oh, you're interested?! I work there!"

"Really? Can you tell me what they're looking for?"

"Right now, one other guy and I work the drinks during the day. We have others in the kitchen. Brewster, the owner, takes over the counter at night. My co-worker wants to switch to night shifts with Brewster, so you'd probably get put on the drink counter during the day."

"So I'm guessing that'd be with you?"

"Most likely. My co-worker says I'm annoying..." Kyle looks to the side for a moment, but his smile never fades. "So, if you did get the job, you'd be working with me. I'm sure Brewster would take my guy on for the night shift."

"I'd be fine with that," I say. "The Roost was the first place I was recommended to look for work. You seem like a cool guy, anyway."

"Wait 'til you live with him..." mumbles Fang. "Always has to talk about something." Kyle shushes him playfully. They both chuckle.

I can definitely see the dynamic between the two of them. They both have droopy eyelids-Fang's more noticeable than Kyle's. They seem to be opposites. One is a go-getter and the other is much more reserved. Reminds me of Rover and me. I get the feeling that Kyle and I are around the same age, but I'm certain Fang is older than both of us.

Kyle's tired eyes light up again and he smiles. "I can talk to Brewster tomorrow. He's gonna be in for the morning to do some paperwork in the back. I can get you an application, and since there's only the two of us, I'm pretty sure I could get you an interview the same day!"

My grin breaks into a full smile. "That would be amazing, man! This is perfect!"

I glance at Fang. He nods at me and smiles at Kyle's enthusiasm. "Kyle has a way with words. Some of us find him a bit of a blabbermouth, but he knows how to persuade like it's nothing."

"You guys have really made my night. I feel great right now."

"Heh, I guess you're getting more out of this housewarming gift than you bargained for." says Kyle.

"Trust me, I am not complaining. You two are awesome."

Kyle's tail wags as he and I chat on and on for a while. Fang eventually manages to steer the conversation toward a "goodnight". I exchange contact information with the two of them. Kyle tells me that he'll talk to this Brewster guy first thing in the morning. If things work out, I'll have landed a home and job within my first three days of living in Oraton. I'll have to visit Isabelle in the town hall again, soon. I head to my bedroom and slip under the same thin throw I used this morning. I can feel excitement churning in my stomach. I stare at the ceiling and grin. I haven't felt this on top of things in a very long time. I woke up in a bathtub this morning and now I'm going to sleep in my new bed.

It's a big change, and it feels damn good.


	3. Chapter 3

"No!"

Slipping on the puddle of coffee that some kid just spilled, my legs fly out from under me, sending me to the floor. I scramble away to the best of my ability as the tray of hot drinks I was carrying take to the air. They hit the floor and counter, splashing scalding coffee everywhere. Thankfully no customers are in reach, but the floor, counter, and my clothes are covered in the burning liquid. The teen and his group of friends burst into laughter as I pick myself up from the floor. I don't look at them as I pick up the cups, because I know I'll say something that'll get me fired. The teens continue to snicker as Maple, one of our waitresses, brings over a mop and cart. She takes the cups from me and tosses them into the trash. "You okay, honey?" she asks. I nod and glance over at the teenagers.

"If this were my place," I mumble, "those kids would be out on their asses."

"Ease up on the vulgarity, honey. Don't want Brewster to hear it. Agnes, Kyle, and I saw one of 'em pour his coffee on the floor right behind you," says the bear, pointing to a kid with short ginger hair. He sees us pointing and clears his throat.

"Don't even blame me," he says. "I didn't do a thing."

Maple points her mop at him, eyes narrowed. "We saw you!" she says. "Several of us did!"

I glance back at the counter as Maple engages in an argument with the group of kids. Agnes gives me a shrug and returns her attention to her station. Kyle stares toward us as he finishes preparing a customer's drink. After he's done, he walks around the counter and joins us. I groan internally as my coworkers argue with the group. Some customers are watching us, and an older human woman even joins in to chastise the teens. A few of our cooks are watching us through the kitchen window. Then I hear the office door open. Maple and I look at each other and sigh in unison.

"Of course this'd happen when Brewster is in for the morning..." she groans, bumping her forehead on my arm repeatedly.

Sure enough, our boss emerges from his office. He quietly approaches the commotion, wings behind his back and one foot in front of the other. He walks past Maple and I, giving us a side-eye through his glasses. He stops behind Kyle. The group of kids stop talking and stare up at the tall pigeon. Kyle turns around and jumps a bit. He steps out of the way.

"H-Hey, boss." he laughs, nervously.

Brewster nods at him and leans down to the ginger teen's level. Brewster pushes his glasses up on his beak and locks eyes with the kid.

"I suggest you leave," Brewster coos in his deep voice.

"Or what?" the teen asks, sitting up straight and staring coldly. His friends glance around nervously.

Brewster waves a wing to me. "You've cost us drinks, and you're lucky my employee isn't badly burned. Do you want your friends to see you get your very first assault charge?"

"I didn't even do anything, you old bird. You can't kick me out for nothing."

Brewster stands up straight. "Donovan. Give me your phone."

"Yes, sir." I hand him my cellphone.

The kid backs down and slides out of the booth. "Chill, dude! We're leaving." He exits the building quickly, his friends right behind him. Maple finishes cleaning the floor and Kyle brings me some towels. "Are you all right, Donovan?" asks Brewster, turning to me. "Yes sir," I say. "Just a little sticky."

"You looked quite upset."

"I was, but everyone jumped in to help. I don't want my day ruined by some kids."

Brewster chuckles to himself and nods as he returns to his office. Maple and I exchange looks of surprise. "He must be in a good mood today," she mumbles.

The pigeon is a head taller than me and is quite intimidating in his quiet, elegant demeanor. He's kind, though. Kyle and I finish our shifts a few hours later and head outside. We sit on a picnic table near the main parking lot of the shopping district, Kyle anxiously fiddling with his watch. There's a warm breeze this afternoon and as usual, the plaza is bustling. Leaves and branches of fruit trees rustle in the wind.

"Fang's still not too happy with me," says Kyle, looking out toward the cliff with a frown. That's a look I'm not used to seeing on his face.

"Did you drink his wine again?" I ask. "I thought you two made up."

"No, alpha, nothin' like that. I guess he was having a bad day or something, but last Tuesday he came in the house pretty pissed off. I got snappy with him and mentioned something about his niece. He went _off _on me."

"So that's why you crashed at my place."

"Yeah. Things have been tense between us. Sorry for not explaining."

"No problem, buddy. If you ever wanna tell me about it, I'm all ears. Sorta wish you'd just told me to begin with. The rest of us were wondering why you two were at odds."

Kyle sighs, returning his gaze to the cliff. I notice Isabelle leading a group of tourists around as usual. I wave to her. She sees Kyle and I sitting on the table and comes over, her bell jingling with each step. She stops in front of us, arms folded.

"Hey, Izzy," I say. "How are you holding up?"

"Evening, D. Can't complain," she says. "I won't have to juggle desk work with this junk, soon."

"Why's that?"

"I told the mayor I was quitting. I'm gonna work for someone who's decent, unlike Jill."

"You go, girl! Who's that?"

"Tom. He's got a new business starting up where he's flying people to islands off the coast. He calls it the 'Nook Inc. Deserted Island Getaway Package'. He's got permits to build there, and I heard he's trying to start a new resort or even a town. I'm going to do secretary work for him on one of the islands off the coast. My outfit will definitely fit there more than here."

"That's a long name. Congrats, though! Sick of your tourist garb?"

She smirks, tapping her fingers on her arm. "You know damn well I am," she mutters. "There's a downside to moving, though. I'll have to leave Oraton."

I feel my heart sink a bit. "I can't afford to commute every day," she says. "Tom's gonna build me a place on the island. I'll be moving out there next week."

I look at the ground, disheartened. I've only known Isabelle for a couple months and she's already taking off.

"Oh," I mumble. "I see, Izzy..."

"You upset?"

"A bit."

She wraps her arms around me and holds me. I feel the soft weight of her head against mine. "I feel you," she says. "I'm gonna miss my favorite barista. Don't worry, though. I'll see you again." I return the embrace and sigh. "I'm happy for you, man. Don't take any bark from anyone ever again. If you meet anyone remotely similar to Jill, be on your guard. Have fun out there."

"Thank you, Don. Really."

She pulls away and smiles at me, a sweet and somber gloss in her eyes. She sighs a soft hum and squeezes my arm. "I'll fly you out to the island sometime," she says, walking away, "since you like travelling so much."

I shudder, partly from surprise, but mostly from dread. My abrupt goodbye with Isabelle feels like a bad omen. It reminds me of my incident with Finkene. I wonder what my friends will think when my time to leave Oraton comes. Thankfully I'm pulled out of thought by Kyle's pokes. Fang has arrived. We get in his car and make our way to Lower Town. An uncomfortable silence hangs in the vehicle. No music plays. The only sound is the muffled rolling of tires on asphalt. Kyle taps my shoulder.

"Did you and Isabelle ever end up going on that date...?" he asks, trailing off.

"No," I say. "We decided that we're better as friends a long time ago. She's still not ready after what Jill did."

"To think the mayor would throw her secretary under the bus like that. I do get it, though. I'd be uncomfortable if my secretary liked me that way."

"Regardless, Jill did Isabelle dirty."

"At least she's moving forward now. Town won't feel the same without her."

Fang glances at me and yawns. Then he looks up to the rear-view mirror, locking eyes with Kyle. Kyle stares silently before his ears droop and he averts his eyes. Fang snorts and returns his attention to the road. I know exactly what Kyle's feeling right now. I've felt tiny under Fang's gaze. It's an icy look that makes you question whether you've made him furious. The kind of stare that makes you anxious. It's empty, but at the same time, you wonder whether contempt could be raging inside. I'm glad that I haven't fallen under the grey wolf's glare in a long time, but it makes me feel awful knowing that Kyle is the receiver now. Having a strained friendship with your roommate is something I know too well. Kyle wastes no time in exiting Fang's SUV when we arrive at OK Motors, only a few blocks away from our apartments. Kyle hurries over to the black birds running the auto shop to work out the retrieval of his car. Fang and I remain in the SUV. He watches Kyle in the distance and exhales a low groan.

"You know as well as I do that you and him are gonna have to make up..." I mutter.

"So you're gonna give me that, too?" he asks. "Tate's been bugging us nonstop about it, cha-chomp."

"Because we want to help. We're not trying to be officious."

"Really, now? Most of you humans are."

He smirks at me and leans on the window. I ramble to myself and roll my eyes.

"What?" Fang asks. "It was a joke! You and Tate are great humans."

"Ugh, save it."

Fang snickers and grins a toothy grin, pleased with his remark.

"Still," I say. "If you guys know what the deal is, you should fix it. It's not fair for Tate, Bianca, Celia, or me to sit around awkwardly and wait for our friends to make up. We want you two to be on good terms again."

Fang's smirk fades. He sighs and stares at the dashboard. "It's just...last week, I was already having a bad day after something my brother did. Then Kyle came around and ran his mouth about my niece."

"What exactly did he say?"

"He mumbled half of it, but I made out some sort of insult."

"Are you sure? Kyle isn't the type to talk dirty about someone's family."

"So you're gonna take his side?" Fang furrows his brow and throws his hands up. "Kyle could never do wrong, hm?"

"That's not what I meant," I snap. "Don't get worked up. He told me you were being rude to him before he even found out what your deal was!"

"And?"

"Dude, you're older than both of us. You know that you can't automatically blame someone for not knowing what's going on with you."

He stares at me and bites the inside of his mouth. He rubs his muzzle and shrugs.

"I'm not taking a side," I say. "Kyle needs to apologize for what he said, and you need to apologize for going off on him. It's mutual."

"Ugh, I know, I know!" Fang growls and grips the steering wheel. "Can't believe I'm bein' counselled by you."

"I mean it as your friend," I laugh.

"I'll get around to it..."

We see Kyle pull out of the garage and head off down the street. Fang puts the vehicle in drive and our silence is once again replaced by the whirring of locomotion.

* * *

The green and white eagle looks down at me as I lay across her lap. She runs her feathery fingers through my hair, making disgusted expressions at the knots she encounters. I wince each time she pulls.

"Stop moving!" Celia says. "You're gonna make me hurt you."

"Why do you want to cut my hair so bad?" I ask.

"Because I liked that undercut you had going on a while back, feathers."

I stare out over the balcony at the countless umbrellas littering the beach and palm trees waving in the wind. It's late evening and the sun is beginning to set. For most people in Oraton, a beach day runs well into the night. Then they become noisy parties. I smile and exhale deeply at the sensation of warm summer wind, salty ocean, and Celia's touch. Kyle lays on the couch, watching a music competition on TV and drifting in and out of sleep. Fang stands on the balcony with us, finishing a phone call.

"All right, thank you very much," he says.

"Did you make the reservation?" Celia asks, gently prodding me to sit up. She begins snipping at my hair.

"Yep. Eight o'clock. We're lucky they had an open spot left. It's Friday—there will be a ton of people."

"Consider us lucky," I say.

"You're gonna be really _unlucky_ if you keep fidgeting!" Celia yells, pulling my hair.

Fang chuckles and leans on the railing. "Give him a little nick, cha-chomp. That'll teach him."

"That's what I'm trying to avoid."

"Sorry..." I mumble.

Kyle snores himself awake and groans in frustration. He trudges to the fridge and begins to chug an energy drink. Celia shakes her head as Fang watches. "I'll be back in a minute," he says. "Be ready to leave soon, you two."

"I can't exactly hurry this up!" Celia cries, only to be shut out by the sliding glass door. Fang approaches Kyle and the two begin to talk.

"Think they're finally getting over it?" I ask.

"I sure hope so." Celia says.

_Snip, snip, snip_.

Celia continues her work and hums to herself. I feel the wind graze the back of my head, hair now thinned and faded. I shiver a bit. Celia ruffles my hair and dries it before sweeping the remains off the balcony into the dumpster below. "Thanks," I say. "I appreciate it, Celia."

"Of course," she says. "Next time, sit still for Pete's sake."

We head inside to a chipper-looking Kyle.

"Yes!" he cheers, rowdily waving his arms. "I love surprise dinners!"

"Go change into something nice," Fang says. "This place is up-scale."

Kyle hurries into his room to find a nicer outfit. Fang breathes a sigh of relief, only for it to turn into a yawn. He looks at me, his eyes now wet from scrunching his face.

"I take it that you two made up?" I ask.

"Yep," he nods. "He's mostly excited about our outing."

Kyle quickly returns, reeking of cologne. Celia pinches her beak and heads out with the rest of us in tow. Kyle starts off down the hall, bopping with every step. I look at Fang again. "Raw Kyle..." he mumbles.

I hang back with Fang while Kyle follows Celia. I feel a great warmth surge in my chest. Kyle hops onto each railing and slides down each set of stairs in the stairwell. He certainly has pep in his step. Fang and I walk shoulder to shoulder.

"I'm glad he cheered up so fast," I say.

"I wish I had a better way with words," Fang says.

"Speak French to him. You know he finds it funny."

"It'll be a cold day in Hell before I do that again."

"Wasn't your mother born in Quebec? Don't waste what little knowledge of French she gave you!"

"My French is terrible and I'm not gonna let you guys tease me about it."

"It's interesting to hear!"

"Sure, kid, sure."

Fang and I share a laugh and continue to chat. We head across the side parking lot of the building to Kyle's hatchback. He picks up the pace and jogs over to Celia, who waits at the car. Once again, she holds her beak when he gets close. Celia joins me in the back behind the passenger seat so as to maintain as much distance as possible between her and Kyle. Fang sits up front.

"So what's this place called again?" I ask.

"Lofter's," he says.

Kyle's ears perk up in excitement. "I've always wanted to go there!"

The rest of the car ride is filled with laughter and obnoxiously loud rock music. We arrive at Lofter's twenty minutes later. The building is two stories tall. It has an ornate, brick exterior with multiple rose bushes surrounding the front doors. The sign reads "Lofter's: Lower Derure's Best Bar and Grill". We all climb out of the car and meet up with Tate and Bianca near the entrance of the building. Tate is almost dwarfed by the tall white tiger. She holds his hand tightly. Kyle sways his hips against me in an attempt to get me to join him. I humor him and give him a slight bump, much to his joy. He does the same with Celia. She brushes her dress off and refuses to humor him. A server eventually leads us to a spot near the middle of the first floor. There are people and animals everywhere. Chandeliers hang from the ceilings. The second floor wraps around several pillars with a large open view of the first. A large stage sits in the middle of the first floor. A band is playing live atop it.

I remember when Tota used to perform in my hometown. I miss his singing. I would always hang out with him and even sing onstage with him, occasionally. Tota's a traveler too, now. Goes all over the place with his guitar. I wonder what that dog's up to...

I pile into a huge booth with Kyle and Tate beside me. After taking our time to order, Kyle begins to tell everyone about the issue at work this morning. He puts an arm around my shoulder and laughs throughout the entirety of the story, barely managing to breathe. He repeatedly mocks the looks on the kids' faces when Brewster approached them. Everyone seems to be entertained, save for Fang. The band onstage announces that they're about to play a slow song and encourages people to meet on the dance floor. My eyes drift to the bar. A short hedgehog slides off her stool and leans on the counter. Her outfit looks both attractive and professional—a navy blue cardigan over a grey shirt, slim black dress pants, and black flats. Reminds of the stuff my mother used to wear when she was a receptionist. The hedgehog stretches her arms over her head, gold bracelets clinking together. She takes a sip of her drink and looks toward me. Embarrassed, I turn away quickly. I feel my cheeks flush red. What is it with me and eye contact...?

"Wanna show us your moves, Don?" asks Bianca, nodding toward the floor.

"A-Absolutely not!" I mumble.

"Aw, what's wrong? Not a dancer?"

"Not in front of all these people!"

She glances at Kyle and smirks. Kyle nods and begins to pull me out of the booth.

"No!" I growl as I attempt to pull away from Kyle. Tate looks at me with a grin—half mischief and half sympathy. He quickly turns away and stifles a laugh. "Stop him!" I cry. Tate looks back at me with false concern. He puts his hand over his heart and opens his mouth to speak, but the words fall short. He snorts and bursts into laughter. Kyle wrestles me out of the seat and pulls me onto the dance floor. I look back and see that Bianca and Tate are recording on their phones. I look around me. Couples fill the floor, mostly intra-race. Humans with humans and animals with animals. Kyle and I are the only human-animal pair on the floor. Wouldn't hurt for Tate and Bianca to join us...

I can feel eyes on us from every angle. The band begins to play a slow, sad song led by an acoustic guitar. The keyboardist provides the backing melody. The couples begin to sway and wrap their arms around each other. Kyle barely manages to contain his laughter as he snakes his arms around my waist. I try to squirm away and smack at his hands, only to be pulled tight. He begins to sway from side to side. I can feel him shaking with laughter against me.

"You son of a bitch..." I whisper, putting my arms around his neck. Although embarrassment has given me a cold sweat, I find the softness of Kyle's fluffy fur a bit comforting.

"It's just one song," Kyle snickers.

"I'm gonna kill you..."

Kyle laughs again and continues dancing. I let my eyes wander the room. People above us on the second floor are focused on us. I notice the hedgehog girl watching me. She has a slight grin on her face. Once again, I feel tiny under the scrutiny of someone else. Kyle and I rock from side to side more rowdily than the other couples. Once people realize we're goofing around, their stares soften. The song finally ends and Kyle lets go of me with another chuckle. He gives me a slap on the rear and begins to walk back to the table as the band announces their next song. As I turn to head back to the table, someone waves at me. I look over and a shiver runs down my spine.

"H'lo there, stranger."

The hedgehog stands in front of me. Up close, I can see that she's wearing a hint of blue eye shadow.

"Noticed you were looking me over," she says, a slight flush in her cheeks and a hint of alcohol on her breath.

"S-Sorry about that," I say with a faint smile. "Was just doing some admiring around the place. I like your outfit."

"Thank you," she says, smiling slightly. "Handmade by some old colleagues of mine."

She turns around, revealing a logo on the back of the cardigan. _Able Sisters _is neatly embroidered in small letters near the right sleeve. The girl turns back to me and glances me up and down, as if looking for a flaw in my attire. She narrows her eyes and stares at my jacket. Then she gasps.

"GracieGrace...?!"

"Y-Yeah...?"

"I have some history with that brand. Looks good on you, if I may be so bold."

I thank the girl and shift my weight to my left leg.

"Got a name, stranger?" she asks.

"Donovan. You?"

"Call me Labelle."

"Very nice to meet you," I say. "I've never known a Labelle before."

"A man doesn't usually dress so well without purpose," she teases. "This is a fancy place, but GracieGrace? That's way up there, hon. Any reason you're here in particular?"

She gives me a mischievous bat of her eyelids. Should I play into her little game...?

"Here with a few friends for dinner. Perhaps I overdressed."

She motions toward the bar. "It's eye-catching. Mind if I steal you away from your friends for a bit?"

I glance toward my table. Kyle and Tate are nodding toward me, smiling enthusiastically. Fang and the others stare, eyes wide as they whisper to each other. I look back to Labelle and give her a half-smile and a shake of the head.

"Ma'am, you're very charming, but with all due respect...I don't think I should engage with you if you've been drinking."

She gives me a look of surprise until she closes her eyes and smiles.

"So be it," she says, a bit of disappointment in her voice. "For the record, I've only had one drink. I appreciate your responsibility, though."

"Just trying to be decent," I say. "It's the right thing to do. I've seen from friends that getting too talkative at the bar leads to regret..."

Her eyes dart from side to side ever so slightly, taking in my features. She exhales deeply and lets out a giggle. "Could I trouble you for just a dance, then?" she asks. "Maybe we can talk another time if we meet."

I feel a small jolt of surprise in my stomach. "O-Oh, wow..." I mumble. "You're very straightforward."

"I have to be," she giggles. "What do you think?"

"Let's dance, then."

She holds a paw out to me. Her face displays a sweet smile, but I can see a sparkle of something else in her eyes. I take her paw and she pulls herself to me.

"You danced quite silly with your friend," she says, "I think you could use a few pointers."

"Really now?"

She laughs again and begins to sway with me. She wraps her arms around my neck as I gently hold mine around her waist. "Consider this a beginning lesson," she says. "Start with tightening your grip."

She wiggles a bit. I wrap my arms gently, but firmly around her waist. She nods. "Now keep in step with me and keep your eyes on mine..."

She stares straight into my eyes. I feel another chill as my eyes dart away.

"Eyes on mine," Labelle says again. "You need to feel connected to your partner."

I swallow and look down at her again. She stares at me. I can see her honey brown eyes drifting ever so slightly across my face. I look toward my table. Fang's tail is swishing. He's tapping his fingers on the table and watching us intently. Labelle and I sway with each other for a moment in silence before I speak up.

"T-There are a lot of people watching us..." I say.

"Sure are," she says. "Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"The stares give me a bit of anxiety."

"Ah, I see. Don't worry. People who stare at you don't always think bad of you. Have you danced before?"

"Once or twice. It's been quite a while."

"If you've danced, then why are you giving me such a hard time?"

"Giving _you_ a hard time?!"

"I'm trying to be nice and give you some pointers. You won't listen."

"Everyone in this town likes to tease, huh?"

"You could say that. People become close quickly here."

"I suppose that seems about right. I mean, we've only just met and here we are, dancing."

She giggles and gives me a slight squeeze. I break eye contact and look around again. I stare at my table. Kyle and Bianca are recording my dance with Labelle. Fang is nowhere to be seen. I look around the restaurant. Actually, a bunch of people are recording. I glance back to my table as a wave of confusion hits me. Fang is still missing.

"You don't listen too well," Labelle says. She pulls me toward her so that she's pressed against my chest. I stumble a bit and bump her forehead. Her fur is soft and smells clean and sweet. I inhale softly. She smells of dessert. Something creamy and vanilla. I pull my head off of hers and look down. Her face is mere inches from mine. "Since you won't look at me," she says, "I'll have to fail your first lesson."

"I'm looking at you now," I say. "Your face is practically in mine. You're all I _can _see."

"Is that so bad?"

I fight the urge to look away. "N-No..." I say with a shaky voice. "It's not bad at all..."

"Your heart's racing."

"I-Is it?"

"You're easily flustered, it seems. It's a bit endearing."

"You're a sweet-talker. Are you this bold when you aren't buzzed?"

"I'm just having some fun."

She nuzzles into me. I hold her firmly against me as we dance until the song ends. As we let go of each other, her hand trails from my neck and down my arm, lightly brushing against my fingers as she passes me. I can still feel hundreds of eyes on me, people watching with their mouths agape. Most have finished recording. They're pointing to me and Labelle and whispering to each other. We clear off the floor. She gives me a wink and takes her place at the bar. I slide back into the booth with everyone else. Kyle nudges me excitedly.

"Now what was _that, _alpha?" he asks. "You're already fooling around with a celebrity?!"

"W-What...?"

"Did you see the way she was holdin' you? She was totally up in your face! Do you even know who that is?!"

"Said her name was Labelle. Why was everyone recording us?"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

Everyone at the table looks at each other, exchanging expressions of surprise. Tate stares at me, eyes wide.

"That's Labelle Able!" he says, brushing his black hair out of his eyes. "She's one of the Able Sisters and she's rich as hell! They have one of the most successful clothing brands in Lower Derure."

"I know what the brand is, but...what? Labelle is an Able? She didn't mention that."

"And you get on _me_ about being clueless!" snaps Kyle.

Bianca nods. "I'm surprised you haven't heard of this. It was all over the news years ago. Labelle left her sisters to work with Gracie and her brand. She came back to her sisters after a while to work in their shop, but it's been bad blood ever since."

"So that's why she was so interested in my jacket. She said the Able Sisters were her old colleagues, not her sisters..."

"She ditched them hard, glimmer." Bianca says.

Kyle bursts into laughter. We finally begin to eat. I can't help but let my eyes wander to the bar. Labelle sits up straight, chatting and laughing with her friends. I try to engage myself with the conversation at the table, only to zone out and watch Labelle more. This woman is already hiding things. Still, I can't shake the vision of my dance with the Able from my mind. She's bold. After a while longer, we shuffle out of the booth and begin to leave. The band onstage has packed up and left. As we head to the door, Labelle approaches me. She slips a small piece of paper into my hand.

"Let me know when you're free," she says, "and we can move on to your second lesson."

She smiles a devilish and sweet smile as she squeezes my hand. Then she saunters away to a group of watching women, a noticeable strut and sway in her hips. I open the slip of paper. Written on it is her phone number, a small heart to the side. Kyle grabs my arms and shakes them like battle ropes in a gym. "Ahhh!" he squeals. "That wasn't even a business card! She straight-up gave you her phone number!"

I stare blankly as I watch Labelle leave the building, Kyle shaking me roughly. I snap out of it and return my attention to the group.

"Good on you," Tate says. "You're already moving way up ahead of us."

"It's not like that," I laugh.

"Oh, it will be!" laughs Kyle. "You better remember us when you're famous!"

I brush him off and we share a laugh. Fang reappears as we exit the building, but remains silent throughout the entire conversation, even on the ride back home. When we disperse in the parking lot, I walk with him and Kyle to our building. As per usual, Kyle dances along a few steps ahead of us. I look at Fang. He stares ahead blankly.

"You good?" I ask.

I'm dandy," he says, gritting his teeth. His tail swishes again. After we exit the elevator, I stare at the floor in front of me, fighting my urge to look Fang in the eyes. I want to press him further, but I know that wouldn't be smart. Did I do something to make him angry? If not, maybe something happened at the table while I was away? I ponder as I walk until I bump into the dancing fool that is Kyle. He grabs my hand and gives me some sort of friendly "handshake" before heading inside his apartment. I stop Fang before he enters.

"H-Hey," I mumble. "Sorry to ask again, but...are you sure you're okay? What's up?"

He finally looks at me and sighs, most likely at the tone of my voice. His ears begin to droop as he looks to the side, but then fold back as if angry. He steps inside, and before closing the door, leaves me with a clear message.

"Stay away from Labelle."

I stand alone in the hallway, blinking at the closed door in front of me. Confusion and irritation swirl inside me. I mutter to myself and start off toward my apartment. I open the door and shut it a bit more forcefully than I intend. I throw my wallet and keys on the table and head out on the balcony. I take a deep breath and think. What in the hell is Fang's issue? Things seemed completely fine until I took to the floor. Did it have something to do with Labelle? He explicitly mentioned her name. Perhaps I'm reading into it too much, but it seemed like it almost disgusted him to say her name. Maybe he knows something I don't and is giving me a warning. Maybe it's something personal. Regardless, I can't help but find myself get more frustrated as I think.

_Stay away from Labelle_.

I grunt out of irritation and pick up my phone. I've been offering Fang my ear and advice so much lately, and he won't even take the time to answer my simple questions? If Fang's just going to slam his door in my face without an explanation, I probably shouldn't worry too much. Fed up and bored, I text the number Labelle gave me.

I glance toward Fang's balcony and roll my eyes.

_Hey, it's Donovan. _


	4. Chapter 4

"I'll see you again?"

I nod and smile, groggy and half aware of what I'm doing. Roscoe winks at me and leaves my bedroom with a soft bump of the door. I stare at the wall for a few moments before rolling over to my nightstand. I yawn as I reach for my phone, only to choke up and cough when I see the message on the screen.

_Hey, it's Donovan._

I feel a chill through my body as I shoot awake. I toss my phone aside and stand up, immediately breaking into a cold sweat. "Damn it!" I cry. "Oh, I've really done it now..."

I pace the room over and over, my eyes trained on the bed the whole time. I anxiously glance in the mirror, scowling at my messy quills. I snap out of it and glance back at the phone. I shudder and head into the living room to see Mabel spread out on the couch. She looks at me with a brow raised. "That horse that came through here scared the life out of me!" she yells. "You need to tell us when you bring someone over! Especially since this isn't your house!"

I don't respond to her, only staring sleepily as I mouth silent words. She furrows her brow and sits up. "Sis," she says. "You okay...?"

I feel tears well up in my eyes. Mabel gets up and hurries over. She sits me down on the couch and holds my arm. "Label!" she says, "What's going on?"

I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. "I'm in some trouble," I mumble.

"What do you mean? Did that guy take something?!"

"N-No. I've created a sticky situation."

"Explain, Label."

I fetch my cellphone from my room and hand it to Mabel. I watch as the concerned expression on her face gradually melts into a look of disgust as I explain last night's venture. Mabel sits quietly for a few moments as she stares at the message from Donovan. She looks up at me with her eyes narrowed. "So you hook a guy for a date, and then you go and sleep with some other stranger?!"

Taken aback by the harshness in her voice, I look down at the floor. I nod slowly.

"I love you," Mabel says, "but this is low. Especially for you. Coming to visit your sisters, only to bring a random guy into the house... and then getting another's hopes up."

"I know..."

She studies my face, obviously judging. I sigh hold my head in my hands for a while. "I hooked up with the other guy because I figured Donovan wouldn't take the flirting seriously enough to reach out to me..."

"But he did."

"Yep...he sure did."

"This is your problem," Mabel says. "All I can really say is, give this Donovan guy a chance or turn him down. You said you weren't gonna pull any more stuff like this! This is the last sort of attention Sable and I need for the store..."

She sits back and says no more. I stare at the message from Donovan. It'd be smartest for me to turn him down. What if he were to find out I'm a swinger? Then again, it's not like Roscoe and I are an item. I bite my lip and give myself the benefit of the doubt. I call Donovan.

At first, he doesn't pick up. Half-relieved, I sigh. Then he returns the call. I nervously answer.

"Hello?" he says.

I lean away from the phone in my shaky hands and clear my throat.

"H-Hello," I say. "Morning."

"Make it home all right?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good to hear. Now, can I be blunt, Ms. Labelle?"

"O-Oh...?"

"Was last night a one-time thing? You were buzzed when we spoke, and you neglected to tell me who you really are. You remember it all, right?"

"Yes, of course. I remember. I'm sorry for not mentioning that part. I figured you wouldn't humor me if you knew who I was. Once I noticed that you didn't know me, I kept it up."

"Ah, I see."

"Again, I'm sorry. Although, I didn't flirt with you last night just to pass the time. You were very fun to be around."

Mabel groans.

"And tease, apparently," Don chuckles. "But you were, too. Made my night."

I giggle and feel a bit of my anxiety ease away. "Just a bit," I reply. "I was serious about your second lesson, though. If you're ever up for it, that is."

"Definitely. I don't get approached by beautiful women often—especially celebrities. Do you have any time in mind?"

"I've nothing to do today. I'm also off next weekend."

"I'm free today, as well."

I feel a smile creep across my face. I question Donovan's willingness to meet up today. He agrees enthusiastically. We finish our conversation with a joyous tone in our voices. I set my phone down and lean back, grinning like a fool. "He's a lot bolder today than he was when I first met him."

Mabel rolls her eyes. "Oh, please," she scoffs.

"He's thoughtful, too," I say. "And don't get me started on his looks. He looked amazing in that Gracie jacket..."

I trail off, sighing softly with a smile. Mabel gives me a small nod and throws an arm around the back of the couch. "I noticed the first thing he mentioned was your drinking," she says. "At least he sounds responsible."

"Exactly. You don't find many handsome strangers with morals."

"Let's hope he isn't a gold digger, and that you can keep your legs closed."

My sister laughs at me as I head to my room to prepare for the date later today. Roscoe's scent lingers on my bedsheets. My spirits fall a bit as I throw them in the washer. "I'm not going to mess this one up," I say, the vision of my dance with Donovan burned into my mind. "C'mon, girl. You're better than this."

Hopefully Donovan doesn't find out what a mess I am under the guise of fame.

* * *

I await Donovan's arrival in front of the fountain by the clock tower. I tap my foot impatiently as my gaze drifts in all directions. Part of me wants this date to be over already, but another wants it to last. I finally see him—top half first as he ascends the stairs from Lower Town. He makes it to the top and heads toward me. I refrain from grinning as I take in his appearance. Tall and handsome, dark brown hair and olive skin shining healthily in the afternoon sun. I'm relieved to see that I'm not overdressed. My idea of casual coincides with his, thankfully. A smile fills his face as he gets closer. As if my legs have a mind of their own, I find myself walking to greet him.

"Afternoon, _stranger_," he laughs.

"Afternoon," I chuckle. "It's good to see you again."

"You too. Did you do something to your hair?"

"You mean my quills?"

"O-Oh, yeah."

"Smoothed 'em down and used a few products so they'd be softer to the touch. I hate spiky."

"Well, it looks really good. Almost like you have curls!"

"I'm glad you think so," I laugh, shifting my purse higher up on my shoulder. "You look pretty great..."

He laughs at the awkwardness of my statement and beams. I groan and pull him along with me. We head toward the shopping district, attracting stares along the way. Like last night, Donovan takes notice of this. I notice him tapping his thigh anxiously as we walk.

"Donovan?" I say, nudging his arms. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," he says. "At least I know why people are staring, now."

"What do you mean?"

"You're famous, Labelle. Not every day the public sees someone like you with a nobody."

"Oh, let's hear it," I laugh.

"Sorry for being so wary," he says. "I hope you understand where I'm coming from."

"Don't worry, hon. I get you."

He looks into my eyes and walks with a bit more confidence. We continue our stroll through the shopping district to a bench near the cliff. We take a seat and gaze out toward the expanse of city and ocean below us. The breeze blows Donovan's hair lightly. He takes a deep breath and looks over the cliff.

"I remember when I first moved here," he begins, pointing to the Mallard's Stretch in the distance. "My first ride over that bridge was amazing. It's massive and beautiful."

"It's quite impressive," I giggle. "Are you a fan of architecture?"

"A huge one. Skyscrapers, monuments, bridges—you name it. I could stare at those sorts of things all day."

He grins for a moment and turns to me. "I suppose that makes me sound easily entertained, hm?"

I laugh and shake my head. Donovan continues to stare toward the bridge. The sunlight glints off his almost yellow eyes, filled with a childlike wonder. He catches me staring and glances at me. "Something wrong?" he asks.

"I didn't see it last night," I mumble, "but your eyes are gorgeous..."

A bit of red flushes his cheeks as he moves his hair out of his face. "T-Thank you..." he says.

"You seem flustered by almost everything I say!"

"I'm definitely not used to being around celebrities."

"Forget that, hon. I'm a person too."

He looks down for a moment as if pondering the validity of my claim. To my relief, he returns his gaze to me and nods. "Good way to look at it," he says.

I cross my left leg over my right and fold my hands in my lap. "Mind if we have that talk we didn't get last night?" I ask.

"I'd enjoy that," he says. "How are we starting this?"

"Are you in college? You look like you're in your early twenties."

"Twenty-two. I graduated a couple years ago, though."

"Oh, what'd you study?"

"Studied psychology for four years. Never went for a doctorate, though."

"That's pretty cool. I studied fashion design under the designer Gracie."

"Big surprise," he laughs.

"Psychology, though," I say. "I didn't expect you to have studied that."

"Most people don't."

"What got you so interested in it?"

"I wanted to understand how people grow. Makes me feel more in touch with them when I'm able to see things from different angles and understand how people form the mindsets they do."

"That's...very thoughtful, honestly. Interesting. Are you a counselor or something?"

"I'm actually working in a café right now. Haven't been comfortable committing to my degree just yet. Honestly, I don't know if my lifestyle really suits that field."

"That's understandable," I say, keeping myself from questioning his lifestyle. The way he mentioned it didn't sound too pleasant. Perhaps I'll learn it in time.

He leans his elbow on the back of the bench. "From the way you worded it earlier," he says, "I'm guessing you aren't in your early twenties."

"Twenty-eight," I whisper.

His face curls into a mix of amusement and sympathy as he laughs. "You made it sound as if you were ages ahead of me," he says. "Twenty-eight isn't too far off from me, _Miss_ Labelle."

"Definitely don't call me 'Miss Labelle' in that sense, _kiddo_."

"Yes, ma'am."

I open my mouth to retaliate, only to grit my teeth and look away. "Ugh!" I groan. Donovan bursts into laughter and gently grips my arm. "I'm only teasing!" he snickers. "Remember how much you pestered me last night? It's my turn!"

I shudder at his touch but a warmth gradually flows through me. I gently place my hand over his. "Checkmate then, Donovan."

"You can call me 'Don'," he laughs.

As I lead him through multiple clothing stores, forcing him to try on things that catch my eye, we spend hours chatting about our schooling, hobbies, and favorite things. It's late evening, now.

"How does this look?" he asks, pulling on a new denim jacket. He turns around a few times, smiling at himself in the mirror. I giggle and nod in approval. "You look quite handsome," I say. "Let me try something. Close your eyes."

I grab a black and white sundress and step into a fitting room. After a few moments of struggling to lace up the back, I sigh in defeat. "Don!" I call.

He gets closer to the door, but maintains his distance. "Yeah?" he asks, covering his eyes.

"I need some help lacing this up. It's okay to look."

He reluctantly lowers his hands. "Sorry," he says. "I've got this thing about privacy. You sure it's okay?"

"Yes, hon."

I crack the door and turn my back to him. He reaches up to tie the lace at the back of the dress, his hands lightly, but firmly grazing the fur on my back. I shiver and let out a small gasp. He removes his hands. "You good?" he asks. I reassure him and stand up straight. I feel myself grinning at the bump of his hands against my back. Once he's finished, he steps away and I reveal the whole thing.

"How is it?" I ask, stepping and turning around a few times.

"It looks amazing on you," he says.

"Oh, don't flatter me."

"I mean it! You look beautiful."

I return to the fitting room with embarrassment washing over me. Last night, I was the one making him feel constantly flustered. Now it's the other way around. Despite being several years younger than me, I feel intellectually matched and comfortable with Don. He certainly knows more at twenty-two than I did. The age difference is almost non-existent, in a way. After I've finished dragging him around, he decides to take the lead.

"Hungry?" he asks, leaning against a lamp post.

"I'd be lying if I denied it," I reply.

"Any place in mind?"

"I've been in the lead this evening. You choose something, hon."

"How about the Listener's Coast?"

My eyes widen in surprise. He looks at me with a questioning, genuine look in his eyes. How in the world can he afford a place like that on a barista's salary? It's not a fancy place, but it's so hard to get in that I've only been once. I'm pretty sure that was only because people know who I am.

"Don," I laugh, "you don't need to try and impress me. You can pick something more affordable."

He furrows his brow and looks away awkwardly. "I can afford it just fine," he says, laughing wryly. "Just because I'm not famous doesn't mean I'm poor."

"I-I'm sorry," I say, slipping my sunglasses into my purse. "I meant nothing by it, hon. Maybe that was a bit inconsiderate."

His expression softens and he purses his lips. "It's all right. Just want you to know that I'm well-off. I'd like to impress you, but I don't seek to do that through monetary means."

"Oh?"

"I'd like to impress you as who I am. I don't believe spending should make someone more appealing."

Time to cross "gold digger" off my list of apprehensions. This guy is down-to-earth...

* * *

Sitting across from Don in the Listener's Coast reminded me of last night. Seeing the embarrassment in his eyes as I caught him stealing glances at me was amusing. I figured I'd humor him and make his night. I shouldn't have had those drinks last night. I ended up teasing this guy into a date and running off with a friend with benefits. I'm disgusted by myself. Spending the day with Don, though...

It doesn't feel like a mistake.

He gently nudges me out of my trance. I look up at him. He has a gentle, yet concerned gaze in his eyes. "You were mumbling to yourself," he says.

"Just lost in thought," I say.

We sit on the bench by the cliff once more, the sun now set. We stare out toward the moonlight dancing on the ocean and the countless headlights zooming on the Mallard's Stretch in the distance. "Do you travel, Labelle?" asks Don.

"I do," I say. "Mostly for work. Interviews and presenting new designs—stuff like that. I don't get to take personal vacations very often. You?"

"I'm something of a traveller. Oraton's my most recent destination. I enjoy it here."

"Why do you travel?"

"I don't really know. Being mobile makes me feel stable, I guess."

"But you do enjoy Oraton? Do you feel unstable at all, since you aren't moving right now?"

"Things are going great for me here, but part of me feels a bit unstable. Like something bad may happen if you stay in one place for too long, you know? I'm not the greatest at settling down. Still, this has been one of the better towns I've been to. I've met a lot of great people, too. Maybe that nagging anxiety will go away."

"Where else do you plan to go?"

"Major tourist destinations in Lower Derure. Maybe I'll fly outta here, one day."

He stares ahead, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Where would you go?" I ask.

"Maybe somewhere in Europe or North America."

We sit in silence for a while longer. I begin to feel a bit of regret piling up in my stomach. Something about last night isn't sitting right. I tug Don's arm.

"I'm glad I met you," I say. "but I still feel awful about how I acted last night."

"Why?" he asks.

"Well, you seemed busy with your friends. I came up and annoyed you until you danced with me. I decided to take a load off and have some drinks because I have to maintain this high-class stoicism when I'm around Gracie and other designers. I haven't had much time to myself until recently."

"And I suppose you've been taking advantage of that?"

"I really have."

"I don't want you to worry. I enjoyed last night. I really did. If you hadn't approached me, we wouldn't be here right now."

He stands up and steps away from the bench. He spreads his arms out before resting them on his hips. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be giving me my second dance lesson?" he asks.

I stare at him, mouth slightly agape as thoughts clash in my mind. Don's the only guy I've met in a long time who's matched my teasing and attitude. The only guy I've been able to relax around. Every other man I've tried to approach, or man that's approached me, has only wanted money or to get me in their bed. Don's shown concern and thoughtfulness since the moment I met him. Maybe that's why I've been fooling around with Roscoe. Maybe I'd given up on finding someone decent. I haven't met anyone as good as Don since...

I shake myself out of it and stand up. I join Don and throw my arms around his neck. "Let's get to it," I say. "Dance with me."

He smirks and grips my waist, pulling me close. We follow the same routine as last night. However, he maintains eye contact the entire time. Even when I try to throw him for a loop, he keeps his eyes focused and his grip tight. At one point, he even dips me. I yelp and cling to him. I stare up at him as he holds me in place. If it weren't for my fur, I'm sure I'd be as red as a tomato. Don holds one hand behind my back and my hand in his other. He pulls me up and close to him as he begins to sway once more. I reach up and place my hands on his cheeks.

"You've certainly impressed me," I mumble. "I didn't even need to teach you anything."

He gently strokes my quills and chuckles. "I can be a bit bold after I've gotten over the shyness." he says. "I hope that's okay."

"Oh, definitely..."

He lets go of me and leans on the railing, a triumphant smile on his face. I stand across from him, arms folded. "Thank you for today," I say. "I felt like a normal person. As embarrassed as I was about coming up to you nearly drunk, I'm happy it ended with this. I made the first move, but now you're the one leading. I haven't felt like this in a long time."

"I'm glad I was able to make you feel that way," he says. "Makes me feel accomplished."

"Most other guys just want me for publicity or money. The way you spoke to me today, though...and the things you've shown me so far... I like this side of you."

"I feel the same to you."

"I, uh, hope I get to see more sides of you in the future?"

"Me too. I was hoping we could get to know each other some more. We're still strangers, pretty much."

"So... Will there be a next time?"

"Definitely. I'm attracted to you, but I want to see more of you before this becomes anything more. As much as I'd like to be affectionate, I feel like I should put a stop to it before it goes further. No rushing anything. I'd prefer to build first."

I nod in agreement. "We should spend more time together, soon. If I'm being honest, I'm sort of hoping this becomes something intimate in the future."

"Let's save that thought for when we're closer, yeah?"

He cocks his head to the side a bit. Excitement sparkles in his eyes, but it's clear that apprehension is present there. He's aware that we've only just met, despite the click. It's a good thing he knows how to pace things. Judging by my actions last night, I certainly don't...

"Yeah," I say. "Friends before anything."

He nods. "There we go. Let's be smart about this. It'll be a little while. Let's see if you still feel that way when you've seen all of me."

He's playing this responsibly. The way he mentioned the possible change in feelings once we become close shows that even though we may lose a chance of romance, he's willing to let it go to preserve honesty between us. That's the most selfless thing I've seen anyone offer, and I've only just met Don last night. He almost seems too good to be true.

"The feeling is reciprocated," I say. "Here's to building."

He takes my hand firmly and moves in, enveloping me in a warm, tight embrace. I wrap my arms around him and nuzzle into his jacket. We exchange smiles so full of warmth that I could melt. Wherever we may go from here, I hope it's good. If he decides a relationship isn't the way to go, I'll be grateful enough to call someone like Don a friend.


	5. Chapter 5

The guys in the kitchen shout playful teases at me as Labelle takes a seat at the counter. As usual, lots of eyes are on her. Even Maple joins in, lightly poking my belly and winking as she passes me. As much as I'd like to serve Labelle, another customer is trying to get my attention. "Kyle!" I call, heading to the other side of the counter, "get Labelle's order and put it on me!"

"You got it, buddy!" says Kyle, tail wagging.

"Absolutely not!" says Labelle.

"Don't argue with me!" I yell. "It's on me and that's that!"

She shoots me an irritated glance but smiles as she turns back to Kyle. I turn to the human man in front of me and smile. "Hi, welcome to The Roost," I say, spewing the obligatory greeting. "How can I help you?"

"Let me get a small Kilimanjaro, two spoons of sugar and milk, no creamer." he says. "Hot, please."

"No problem. Can I get a name?"

"Farley."

"All right, your total is 240 bells."

I finish the transaction and begin to prepare the man's order. I pour the steaming coffee into a small takeout cup and ration the desired portions of milk and sugar into the liquid. I mix it until homogeneous and slap a lid on top. Maple takes the cup to the end of the counter and calls the customer over. I wipe down the counter and glance over at Labelle. She's got her elbow propped up, head leaning on her arm. She smiles at me and takes a sip of her drink. Agnes returns from her break and takes the cloth from me. "I gotcha," she says. "Go ahead and take your break. Your woman's waiting on ya."

I thank her with a roll of the eyes and quickly clock out. I move around the counter and take a seat next to Labelle.

"You're cute when you're focused," she says. "Hurrying all over the place."

"What's cute about it?" I ask, waving a hand in front of my face. "I'm sweaty from the steam and my hair's starting to curl."

"You just have this determined expression on your face," she giggles. "It's cute, even for the simplest tasks."

"Well, I'm glad you think so. How's your day been so far?"

"Kinda busy too. Didn't have meetings today on anyone's behalf—Gracie's or the Able Sisters'. Just ran around with the sales associates."

"You were pretty much floor staff, then."

"Yep. It was hectic, but I kind of enjoy it. Gives me a break from travelling and talking and makes me feel like I'm actually working."

"That's what's respectable about you. You're humble."

She smiles sweetly and takes another sip, then clasps her paws over my hands. "Is that what you look for in a woman?" she asks. "Humility?"

"Partly," I laugh. "I haven't had too many relationships, but my ideal partner is someone who's smart, thoughtful, and knows how to carry themselves."

She nods, glancing at her drink for just a second before looking at me again with her warm eyes.

"What about you?" I ask. "What's your type?"

"I'm looking at him, hon."

I put my hand up above my eyes and look around the café. "Where?" I tease. "Show me."

The left side of her mouth curls up into a half-smile. "You're funny," she says, locking her fingers with mine before standing up. "Saying we need to go slow and all you've done is tease me over the past couple weeks."

"You do it to me too. Maybe I can hold myself back."

"Ha, we'll see. Anyway, I've got to get back to Gracie's store now. Don't want her coming after me."

She squeezes my hand one last time and says her goodbye, heading out of The Roost. The bell jingles as the door closes behind her. She saunters down the sidewalk, her small tail swishing with each sway of her hips. She slips her sunglasses down over her eyes as she rounds a corner and disappears from my sight. I sit for a moment and smile to myself before clocking back in.

* * *

The first thing I decide to do after returning home from work is shower. However, Kyle has beaten me to it.

"You better not clog my drain with your fur!" I call, beating on the door to the bathroom. "And don't use up all the hot water!"

"I won't!" he shouts, barely audible over the water pouring from the shower head. "If you wanna conserve water, though, you can hop in here with me!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe! Why don't you show me what's hiding in those jeans?"

I faintly hear him laugh to himself as I walk away from the bathroom. I open the sliding glass door to my balcony and step outside. Warm wind and salty air never fail to greet me here. Funny enough, I still haven't visited the beach, even though it's only a street or two in front of my building. I look up to my right toward Fang and Kyle's balcony. Kyle has been crashing at my place quite often lately. He claims I'm more fun to be around than Fang. I've convinced myself it's been troublesome to have Kyle staying with me, but I know deep down I appreciate it. He's made my quiet apartment a lot livelier. My evenings have been a lot more fun with him around. I can't fault him. I did say my home was his, even if we are only a floor apart.

Kyle emerges from the bathroom, fur blown dry to the point he looks like a stuffed animal.

"I love your hairdryer," he laughs.

"You get more use out of it than I do," I say. "If I had nearly as much hair as you, it'd take me ages to get it dry."

He takes a seat on my couch and swings one arm over the back of it. "Does Tate still want us to go to that market with him?" he asks.

"Yep. He wants to get stuff for lunch this Friday. Fang coming today?"

"Nah, he said he wasn't feeling social. He will be coming to that lunch, though."

"That's just his excuse to avoid me. He's probably still upset about Lofter's. Somehow, I upset him."

"He's enigmatic, alpha. Now, hop in the shower! It's almost four!"

I gather a fresh set of clothes from my room and head to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. After I've thoroughly scalded myself in bliss, I dry off and head back into the living room. Kyle and I leave the apartment and make our way to Tate's convertible in the parking lot.

"Hey," says Tate, tucking his black hair behind his ear. The sunlight strikes his blue eyes, making them appear a shiny, crystalline grey.

"Where exactly is this market?" I ask, buckling my seat belt.

"Further down the shore," he says. "Almost to the pier at the end of town."

"Is it big?"

"Huge, mate."

Tate puts the car in drive. As our speed picks up, the wind hits our faces hard. I smile to myself and even let a laugh slip out. Racing through a beach city with friends in the summer is something I've always wanted to do. I've never spent much time near the coast until now.

Tate turns up the music and Kyle lets out a howl. We drive through downtown, faces beaming and hair flying. As we slow to a stop at a traffic light, I look up. Two people, both in separate high rises opposite each other across the highway, are blowing bubbles back and forth. They glint in the sunlight before being blown high and far out of sight by the wind.

"Don'tcha wish we lived in a tall building like that, Don?" asks Kyle. "Don't you love skyscrapers?"

"Wouldn't want to live in one with you. You'd hang your ass out the window."

Tate snorts with laughter as he puts his foot to the gas. After several minutes longer, we're slowed down once again by crowds of people. While Tate swears to himself, weaving in and out of traffic, Kyle and I stare at the marketplace in front of us. Stalls of many different sizes, shapes, and colors litter our vision, stretching far past what we can see. Humans and animals are drifting to and fro like debris in an ocean. Paper lanterns, streamers, and flags hang from the tops of light poles and roofs, stretching across the marketplace in a festive display. Conflicting smells clash for dominance in the air—the stench of fresh fish, freshly fried sweets, oils, and countless others.

"This is incredible," Kyle mumbles.

"Have you been here?" I ask.

"Once, but it was nothing like this."

Tate lets out a groan of frustration and lets his head fall on the steering wheel. He jumps, startled at the honk of the horn. "You two get out and start looking for the things on the list," he says. "I need to find a place to park..."

We hop out of Tate's car and prepare ourselves to get lost in the labyrinth before us.

"Where to first?" I ask.

Kyle retrieves the shopping list from his pocket and unfolds it. He cringes at the sight of Tate's poorly-scribbled cursive.

"Oh, alpha, oh no..." Kyle mumbles, painfully scanning the messy list. He pulls at one of the straps of his tank top and shakes his head. "First things we need are flour and yeast."

"We're baking something?" I ask, falling into step alongside my canine friend.

"List says Celia's supposed to bake some bread."

"Celia's coming?"

"Yeah, is that bad?"

"No, I like Celia. We just rarely see her."

"It's good that she'll be coming to lunch, then."

Kyle and I push our way through the crowd. Upon asking him whether he knows where he's going, I'm told he has no clue. We eventually stop at a large stall selling baked goods with bags of flour sitting out front. Kyle heaves one up and onto his shoulder, as well as a small pouch of yeast, and brings it to the front, earning a puzzling look from the bearded bear at the register.

"What the hell are you doing?" he booms, leaning over the counter. A few people turn our way. I pull my shoulders up and tap my foot uncomfortably.

The fur on the back of Kyle's neck stands up a bit. "L-Looking to buy this, I mean...these...?"

The bear raises an eyebrow and lets his mouth hang open a bit. "We use those to bake with, son. You came to a stall for baked goods to buy our ingredients? Why not buy our food?"

"I, uh... we just need flour and yeast. Sorry, I thought it was for sale. It was out front, I mean."

"My business ain't a grocery store," laughs the bear. "You come here to get things you can't buy at the store!"

"Have you ever considered selling the ingredients?" Kyle asks. "You could attract a lot of people with that alone."

The bear begins to chuckle to himself before bursting into laughter. "That how you're gonna justify it?"

"It's a reasonable suggestion, sir. People may want to get their hands on the same products such an esteemed brand as yours uses."

"I'll look into that, kid. Geez." The bear shakes his head and waves a hand. "You can take 'em. 800 bells."

I quickly hand him the money and we move on our way. "Thanks for the laugh!" shouts the bear as we hurry to the next stall. Kyle bounces the bags on his shoulder for better leverage and beams proudly.

"How the hell did you turn it around like that?" I ask.

"You know how good I am at running my mouth. Still, that wasn't fun," he says. "You froze up and made me do the talking! I thought he was gonna kill me for a second."

"Sorry, Kyle..." I mumble, doing my best to laugh it off.

"I've noticed you kind of freeze when strangers look at you. You go quiet and avoid eye contact."

"I've always been like that. I get really nervous when people stare at me. Makes me feel like I've done something wrong or that something bad is about to happen."

"Eye contact makes first impressions last. Don't let people think you're scared, Don."

"I know, I know. I just really hate confrontation unless I'm the one doing the confronting. I guess that kind of goes with it. I don't like being looked at or approached because I get all fidgety."

"I get you on the confrontation thing. Kinda how it was when Fang and I were in that fight a while back."

"Yeah. I've sorta conditioned myself to believe that if I don't acknowledge the situation, or if I look away from it, it won't seem as significant."

Kyle nods and looks ahead. He's blocked from my vision for a moment as a rather large man passes between us, but he returns to my side quickly. He steps a little closer to me and puts an arm around my shoulder, his leathery paw pads rubbing my upper arm.

"That's not healthy," Kyle says, a rare frown taking over.

"I know, buddy. It's something I have trouble with."

"I may sound like an asshole for sayin' it, but try and think a little more rationally about it. People may just be curious. They're not always judgin'. Let me know if I can help at all."

I smile at the ground and put my arm around Kyle too. His grin returns.

"How about you carry this stuff for a little bit?" he suggests. "It's killin' my shoulder..."

I take the large bag of flour from him and prop it up on my own shoulder. Kyle rolls his arms in circles a few times as we walk. We see Tate in the distance at a produce stand. He greets us with a nod as we join him.

"Bianca wants lettuce and tomatoes," he says. "She explicitly told me to get produce only from Sow Joan's Stalk Market. She'll nag me to death if everything isn't exactly right."

Across the counter, an old sow is leaning down to the eye level of a young sow.

"Don't look so glum, Daisy Mae," says the old sow. "You're old enough now to help out."

"I'm gonna look plain silly," snorts the young boar in a soft, but thick country accent. She wipes her nose and looks up with a frown. The old sow chuckles to herself as she straps down the bowl of turnips on the girl's head. "It's not so bad," says the old sow. "You're a good girl. You'll do a great job."

"Do I still have to go to the island this Sunday, Gram-Gram?"

"Yes, little lady. No shirking your work."

"Turnips ain't even that good..."

"You'll learn to appreciate them. They're your business, now. It's time for your grandmother to farm other things."

I chuckle to myself as I'm pulled away from the stall by Kyle. We manage to gather the rest of the items from Bianca's list in under an hour, leaving us time to do a bit of shopping for ourselves. We head away from the consumables, favoring the stalls displaying accessories and items of entertainment. A camel running a stall has a myriad of beautiful, ornately designed rugs and wallpapers on display. Beside her, a walrus is running an art booth with his paintings hanging to dry. My gawking is interrupted as two children, one human and one feline, run past me with their arms full of seashells. They head to a stall a few meters away and begin to load the shells onto a scale. After a bit of discussion with the man running the stall, the kids go on their way, smiles on their faces and bells in their wallets.

"Did you see that?" I ask, nudging Tate.

"Kids know how to make money," he laughs.

"Who'd buy a bunch of broken shells?"

"I hear selling shells, fruit, and all sorts of random shit was a real popular way to make bells in the past. Seems like some people honor 'tradition' and humor those looking for a quick buck."

"If that's the case, I'll go catch a butterfly and sell it."

"Hell, man, you'd find someone who'd buy it!"

I laugh a bit and gaze around the stalls once more. I walk behind the front row, making my way down each little alleyway and scanning the vendors to my left and right. When I make it to the very back row, a small purple tent with golden markings catches my eye. There are few people this far back, and none of them seem to be interested in the tent. I feel my heart rate pick up a bit as I move closer to the tent, mesmerized. I stand outside, debating on whether it'd be smart to enter. The scent of potpourri wafts toward me and a low, feminine voice fills my ears.

"Don't be scared. I won't bite."

I shiver and look around. The few people present pay me no mind. I take a deep breath and lift the green flap, stepping inside the tent. It's illuminated by a single candle, and is somewhat warm. An indigo panther wearing a burgundy headscarf sits on a pillow in front of a small table. Her large, almond shaped eyes watch me approach. She grins at my wary demeanor.

"I get very few visitors," she purrs. "Why don't you have a seat with me?"

Figuring I've come too far to bail now, I gingerly lower myself to the floor. The panther looks me over and smiles. "My name is Katrina," she says. "I'm a fortune teller."

Oh, good lord! A fortune teller! What the hell am I wasting my time in here for?

"My name is Donovan," I say. "Nice to meet you."

She fixes her gaze and locks eyes with me. Instinctively I look away. Katrina giggles and places her paws on the table. "Would you like me to read your fortune?"

"Why not?" I say, forcing myself to look at her. Those eyes are almost as intimidating as Rover's. They seem to pierce me.

"May I have your hands?" she asks.

I hesitantly reach toward her and place my palms in hers. She squeezes my hands and closes her eyes. She hums softly to herself before stealing another glance at me.

"You carry yourself in a very cautious, yet respectable manner." she says.

I hold still, saying nothing.

"You refuse to look at me. I can sense that you don't like facing people."

Again, I remain silent.

"You wish you didn't have to look away from people, though. You're cautious because you're smart. You're independent, but you're lonely. You're scared of being alone, but you're scared of feeling tethered to others. It all begins to fall when people start expecting things from you."

I stare at the floor as goosebumps cover my skin, despite the warmth of the tent. I swallow hard as thoughts race in my mind. What is she going on about? How is she coming to these conclusions without knowing a damn thing about me? I knew this was a waste of time.

"You'll have a big decision to make in the coming months," says Katrina. "and it will be the strongest test of your character yet."

She loosens her grip on me and slides her paws away. "I hope my words mean something to you," she says. "Thank you for humoring a recluse like me."

"Thank you for the thought," I say. "How much do I owe you...?"

She doesn't answer, instead leaning over the table and trailing a claw from my chin to my chest. "Not one bell," she purrs. "Your time and presence were payment enough."

She sits back and winks at me as I bid her farewell. As I emerge from the tent, I shudder violently. I pick up my pace and set off to find Kyle and Tate. Thankfully, they aren't far away. They're standing near a bulletin board, inspecting the flyers posted. I join them and breathe a sigh of relief to be in the sun again.

"Where did you go?" asks Tate, sniffing my shirt. "And why do you smell so good?"

"I, uh, talked to a fortune teller." I laugh. "She probably cursed me or something."

"Not sure that's how they work, Einstein."

Kyle's tail begins to wag as he inhales the scent of potpourri. Tate and I exchange odd looks and laugh at Kyle. "You're a lot more of a dog than a wolf," says Tate.

"I can't help it," says Kyle, smiling innocently.

A familiar face on the bulletin board stands out to me. I reach up and pull the flyer off the board, holding it in front of me. I read it aloud.

"K.K. Slider: live next Saturday at the Summer Market. 8 PM."

Tate brushes his hair out of his eyes and looks at the flyer in awe. "No way," he mutters. "K.K. Slider... Wow."

"We should come see him!" says Kyle. "Hopefully Don and I won't have to work overtime."

"I'm down for it if you guys are," says Tate. "I wonder how expensive tickets will be..."

I tap the toe of my shoe in the grass and shrug. "I mean, Tota never charged anything back when he was younger."

"Tota?" asks Tate.

"Yeah, that's K.K.'s real name. Totakeke Slider. I've called him Tota since we were kids."

"Hold the phone. Are you saying you know K.K. Slider?"

"We met when we were little. He used to busk in my hometown outside my mom's corner store. My friend Rover, the guy who always rides the trains, was close with him too. The three of us would goof around and play music on the corner. We even made a makeshift stage, once."

Tate laughs and crosses his arms.

"You're serious?" asks Tate.

"One hundred percent," I say. "I haven't spoken to him in a long time, though. I still have his contact in my phone."

"Tell him you're coming to his show, then!"

"No, I'll surprise him. He doesn't know where I live now. We should all make plans to see the show next Friday! He won't be expecting me at all."

Tate and Kyle nod and agree enthusiastically.

"I should call Rover, too." I say. "I'm sure he'll be just as happy to see Tota."

"Invite him down here, then!" says Tate. "Bring him to lunch this Saturday, too! And Labelle!"

"You sure about that?" I ask.

"Hell yeah, man! You talk so much about the two of them. It's time we all meet 'em."

"Awesome! I'll let them know. Make sure you tell Bianca."

"Nah, I'd rather see the look on her face when Labelle Able walks into our kitchen."

"She'll freak," says Kyle. "Even worse than that time you tried to smoke in the house, Tate."

"That was ages ago. She'll be grateful for this."

We trudge across the market, arms loaded with bags of ingredients. We continue our discussion as we pile into the car and leave the Summer Market in our dust. As Tate and Kyle go on about K.K.'s concert, I take the moment to myself and call Rover.

"Hello...?" yawns the cat as loud static shuffling fills the background.

"Napping again," I say. "You didn't fall asleep on a train this time, right?"

"No, smartass. I'm at home."

"Well, pack your bags. You're coming to Oraton to stay with me for a while."

"Really now? Why so sudden?"

"Having a get-together this Friday."

"That's real short notice, Donder. It's already Wednesday."

"Also, I just found out Tota's gonna be performing Saturday of next week."

I wait for Rover's response as the sound of shuffling takes over the speaker. I wince and hold the phone away from my ear. Several minutes later, Rover picks the phone up again.

"What was all that?" I ask.

"Packing," says Rover. "I'll be there Friday morning."

_**Beep!**_

"That was fast. Hey. Hey? Rover...?"


	6. Chapter 6

Labelle scoots closer and leans into me, almost straddling my lap. Hesitantly, I put an arm around her and sink into the couch.

"You sure you're okay with this?" she asks.

"I-I guess so," I mumble.

She lightly traces her finger in circles on my chest, occasionally glancing up at me.

"What do you hope to gain from dating me?" I ask. "Surely you could find someone who isn't so plain."

"Are you having doubts, hon?"

"I don't know. I had a talk with a stranger at the market the other day. It's been on my mind a whole lot. Makes me question what's good about me. You're more well-off than I could ever hope to be."

"When I have feelings for someone, it's for who they are, Don. I've been out of touch with real affection because my type of work requires a lot of travel. I've had free time lately, so I guess that's why I've decided to start looking for love again."

"And you want that from me?"

"I do, and I know you can give it to me. No one's perfect, but I know you have a lot of love in your heart. I've heard the things you say and the way you feel. You actually care about me, for one thing. You've got this odd charm—full of ambition but a bit seclusive. You get these little bursts of boldness that are so adorable."

"I suppose I should thank you for seeing something, then."

"You make me feel warm...and safe. You're an amazing friend, but I want something more."

"It needs a little longer. To make sure it's what we really want."

"I know what _I _want, hon. It's you who's got cold feet."

I feel a shiver as I replay her words in my mind. Maybe I should've lightened up with the teasing. It feels like she's becoming a bit too entranced...

She looks at me with a sweet, sad face. I rarely see her without makeup, and this time it can't hide the tired longing in her expression. She rests her head on my shoulder, sighing softly. I slip one hand under her legs and the other behind her back. She yelps as I lift her off the couch.

"No!" she cries. "Put me down. I'm heavy..."

"Not at all," I say.

"Please, Don, I can feel you shaking. You're gonna drop me."

"Fine," I say. "We can be mushy another time. It's about time to pick up Rover."

Labelle blushes and covers her eyes. "You're making me melt right now."

I set her down with a laugh and prepare to leave. We head outside to my car and make our way to the train station. My reunion with Rover is well overdue. He hasn't found time to ride the rails like he used to. He said he'd been busy with work, but never told me what he was doing. This'll be my first time seeing him in some time. He helped my mother move some of my stuff from Finkene here, but that was a long time ago—long before I became such close friends with the ones I have now. I regret not keeping in touch with Rover as much as I used to. Even in Finkene, I found time to phone him. I understand that things change when you become an adult, but that doesn't mean I want my friendship to fade away.

"Do you think your friend will be surprised to see me with you?" asks Labelle, cleaning her sunglasses.

"I don't know," I say. "I'm sure he's seen our faces circulating the internet. Or perhaps he's seen us in those awful tabloids that circulate grocery stores."

Labelle throws her head back and groans. "You _know_ I hate those things."

"Why are people still interested in us? It should be old news by now."

"My fans can never let anything die. Still, I can't believe they used those pictures from Lofter's. Just look at us."

She bursts into laughter, holding her hand softly over her mouth. She shows me the picture that's been circulating on news outlets. The main picture is from my first dance with Labelle. She's pressed against me and I've got a horrified expression on my face.

Labelle continues to snicker at the picture. "It's so embarrassing," she says, "but look at your face! You look like you're about to keel over!"

"I'm_ going_ to keel over if I have to look at that one more time. Just look at the headline."

**_World-Renowned Fashion Designer Courts Barista—Month Two_**

"How do they know I'm a barista?" I ask. "Wait, was it that one girl who snapped a picture the last time you came to see me at work?!"

Labelle slaps my arm and snorts in laughter, only to cover her face in embarrassment and giggle happily under her breath. "Ew!" she cries. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes," I say, "it's called a laugh. You have one."

"Zip it, smart-mouth. You're lucky I laugh around you at all."

She raises a brow at me and bites the inside of her cheek as she slips her sunglasses back on. "What do you need those for?" I ask, rolling my eyes. "We're inside!"

"They make me feel secure," she says. "And they're good for people-watching."

I lean in close to her face and see her eyes darting around through the tinted lenses. "I can see your eyes clearly!" I say, bumping her nose with mine, getting just close enough to her mouth to feel her breath.

"You're so awful to me," she says, turning away. "That was a cruel."

"We were founded upon teasing."

I back away from her and look toward the platform. The train has arrived and people are beginning to file out. Labelle watches me with a chuckle as I stand on the bench, looking through the crowd. I see a blue cat, but it isn't him. I tap my foot impatiently until more passengers exit the train. Then I see one of Rover's signature shirts, an argyle tank top. He descends the steps, bags in hand. He looks around for me, bouncing the heel of his worn skate shoes on the floor. "Rover!" I call. "Over here!"

He must barely be able to hear me over the noise of the station. His ear twitches as he looks around. I call to him again, this time getting his attention. A smile widens across his face as he heads over. I walk out to him and spread my arms. He sets his bags down and hugs me, rowdily rocking from side to side.

"It's great to see you," I say.

"You too," he says, red irises reuniting with my hazel. "I've missed my Donder."

I narrow my eyes and swear under my breath, much to Rover's amusement. I turn around and motion to Labelle. She saunters over and stands by me. Rover's eyes widen.

"News wasn't kidding," he mumbles. "You really _are_ dating her..."

"Not exactly," Labelle giggles.

"Yeah," I add, "we're working our way up."

Rover nods and extends his hand to Labelle. She shakes it firmly. "It's an honor to meet you," Rover says. "Name's Rover. I'm sure Donder has mentioned that, though."

"It's very nice to meet you," Labelle replies. "And yes, Donder mentions you often."

"Don't start calling me that!" I groan.

Rover and Labelle laugh as I start off out of the station, taking my friend's bags in my hands. He and Labelle make small talk as we walk back to my car. I put Rover's things in the trunk and shut it. "I see that your mother brought this old thing down here," says Rover, tapping the hood of my car. "Shame on you for making her drive all the way down here. Why didn't you just drive to Oraton when you moved?"

"Trains feel liberating," I say. "Next time, I'll just ask your dear old dad to help me."

"He'd do it in a heartbeat. I almost think you're more his son than I am!"

* * *

"I don't have a guest room," I say to Rover, setting his belongings on my kitchen island. "You can take my room. I'll take the couch."

"Oh, here we go," he chuckles. "Are we gonna argue about this like we did when we were kids?"

"Just take my room, Ro. I'm trying to be hospitable. Couch is fine for me."

"And it is for me, too. Besides, don't you and your lady friend want the bed?"

Labelle stares at him in shock. For a split second, I'm terrified that she won't take the joke lightly. Thankfully, she begins to giggle. "I'm sure he'd rather share the bed with his friend Kyle," she says, taking advantage of the line. "Speaking of, why isn't he here?"

"Kyle likes to get places much earlier than he needs to," I say. "He's been at my friends' place for two hours already."

Labelle and Rover take a seat on my couch and talk for the next half hour while I get ready to meet up with everyone else. Labelle's been impatient ever since we decided to postpone a relationship until we properly built up a friendship. She agreed with me on everything I mentioned to her, and I know she wants it that way, but I can tell she's getting impatient. She wants to be affectionate and is trying to hold herself back. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some of those urges. I was just as headstrong, at first. I'm rarely anyone's love interest. That's probably why I got so excited about it. I feel there may be another reason, and... it's quite petty. It's been nagging at me for a while, but I've tried to push it aside. Now, it feels almost like I jumped the gun. Labelle is very physically affectionate. I'm trying to put a barrier between intimacy and our slight familiarity.

My phone rings. It's from Bianca.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey, glimmer. You guys on your way?"

"Just about."

"You got your friends with you?"

"Indeed."

"Good. I sent you my address. I so can't wait to meet them!"

"See you soon, Bianca."

I return to the living room. Rover and Labelle look at me expectantly. "All ready?" Labelle asks. I nod and usher them out of my apartment.

"Mind if we stop by the shopping district first?" asks Rover. "I'd like to see Tom."

"Tom Nook?" I ask. "I thought he moved to an island or something."

"He did, but came back to check on his shop. He told me that Lyle had taken over it for him."

We pile into my car once more and I make my way through Lower Town and up the overpass to Upper Town. Labelle sinks into her seat and emits a low sigh when we arrive at Nook's Homes. Rover hops out and hurries inside. Labelle sticks close to me as we enter, anxiously fiddling with the buttons on her cardigan. Inside, Rover and Tom are wrapped in an embrace, chuckling to themselves. Tom notices me and beckons me over.

"Donovan!" he cries, "Hello, hello! How wonderful to see you!"

His cool blue eyes drift to the woman by my side. His jaw drops for a moment.

"Oho! You've brought me quite esteemed company! If it isn't Labelle Able!"

He extends his hand, which Labelle reluctantly shakes. "Hello, _Tom_," she says, a curt hiss hanging in the vocalization of his name.

"Yes, yes. Tell me, how is your older sister faring, hm?"

Labelle's expression immediately darkens. She grips her purse tightly and stares Tom down.

"She's just fine," she snorts.

Tom, sensing Labelle's hostility, backs away from the subject. "Send her my regards," he says, turning back to Rover. As they engage, I lean in close to the short hedgehog.

"Are you all right?" I whisper. "You know him?"

Labelle nods as she runs her paws down her curvy figure, smoothing her pants down. "That's a story for another time," she mutters. She says nothing more on the subject, instead choosing to stand away from me while I talk to the others. Tom puts an arm around Rover and me, pulling us close. I stumble against the old tanuki as the scent of mahogany cologne floods my nostrils. I stifle a cough and stand up straight. "What brings you here today?" he asks.

"Rover's visiting me," I say, "so we decided to say hello."

"Well, it's certainly a pleasant surprise. It isn't often that I get to see Rover—and with his best friend, much less!"

"How do you two know each other, exactly?"

"Rover's very talented at making friends. He rides the rails and sends those in search of a home my way."

"So, he works for you?"

"He used to when he was younger. Now he recommends me out of courtesy, but we keep up with jobs."

Tom nudges Rover, only to receive an eye roll in response.

"It's not like you need it," Rover says. "You make plenty of money."

"Most of it goes to an orphanage, my friend. Unless my nephews ask me about something."

"How are they?"

"Timothy and Thomas are well. They miss you."

"I'll have to pay them a visit, soon."

I cross my arms and eye Rover. "Did you plan to send me to Tom from the beginning?" I ask, interrupting. "And how come you never told me about him?"

Rover puffs his cheeks out and looks away. "I really didn't think it was too important," he says. "I met Tom on a train ride when you and I were in high school. I figured I'd help him out because I'm so used to strangers. But yeah, I did have an idea of where to send you when you told me you were leaving Finkene."

"So, you're just a walking advertisement?"

Tom bursts into laughter.

"I was gonna tell you all that eventually," Rover says.

"I know you," I say. "You'd just beat around the bush."

"Yes, yes," says Tom, "quite true."

After Tom and Rover finish their conversation, Rover and Labelle head back to my car. As the two exit the store, Tom stops me by gripping my arm. I stumble a bit and turn to him expectantly. "D-Don," he mumbles, his demeanor drastically different from moments ago, as if he were putting on a façade for the group. He taps his paws on his chest frantically as something like panic takes over his face.

"Y-Yes, sir?"

"Are you and Labelle close?"

"Yes."

"I-I have a favor to ask of you..."

I feel my stomach churn. "What's that...?"

"See, that girl despises me," he continues. "I used to be very close with her older sister, Sable. We had a falling out and haven't spoken in many years. Sable's sisters were quite young, and if I may, impressionable when it happened. I fear they have a twisted memory of the events, and they've always met me with anger."

"R-Right."

"So... I'd like you to talk to Sable for me. If Labelle trusts you, then I'm sure you'd be able to find a way to talk to her sister, hm?'

Tom stares at me with a pained expression.

"Sir, this is...a tall order." I say.

"Please, Don," he pleads. "Get Sable to talk to me. I want to clear everything up with her. Your efforts will be rewarded handsomely, I promise."

"Tom, I don't think this is a good idea. This is so sudden. I don't even _know _anything about Labelle's sisters. I may end up dating Labelle sometime soon...and I don't think it'd be smart to use her that way."

"I'm too scared to call Sable. I need you to lighten her up a bit for me. I know you're a kind man. You could get through to Sable. Yes, yes, you and her have similar attitudes. If anyone can get through her coldness, I'm sure it's you. Please, at least consider it."

I can sense the man's despair. Through a brief moment of careful deliberation, I leave him nothing but a "maybe". I quickly exit the store and return to my vehicle. "What took so long?" asks Rover. I say nothing, only gripping the steering wheel tightly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Labelle leaning on the window, snout turned up and disgust painted on her face. I sit up straight, swallow hard, and pull out of the parking lot. After we arrive in Bianca and Tate's neighborhood, Rover sticks by Labelle's side when we exit the vehicle, hanging a few steps behind me as we approach the house. Bianca and Tate's home is in the suburbs of Oraton, known colloquially as Teach, and is predominantly a human community. Two story homes line the streets, all with garages and moderately sized yards. There are several human adults and children around. Seeing so many of my kind outside with their families and walking the streets gives me a mild sense of comfort. Maybe it's the impatience with the tiresome chore of removing Kyle's fur from my clothes and furniture, but seeing so many humans in one place puts me at ease. Reminds me of my hometown, Pendle. Way back when Rover and Tota were the only animals I knew. The three of us stood out there.

_**Knock, knock, knock!**_

I drum on my outer thigh as the stumbling footsteps inside get closer. The door swings open and I'm greeted by Tate.

"Hey!" he says, gleefully. "Good to see you guys."

"Yeah," I cough. "You smell like smoke. Bianca's gonna kick your ass."

"It's not me! Celia's screwing around with the oven."

"Funny-I don't remember ovens smelling like tobacco smoke."

"Real funny, Don."

"I slept in the most _disgusting_ motel you could imagine. It's not my fault I'm so disgusted by the smell!"

A feminine voice calls from further in the house. "Tate, honey, who is it?" yells Bianca.

"Don and his friends!" Tate replies.

"Bring 'em in!"

Tate herds us inside, nodding and briefly greeting Labelle and Rover. He scowls at me for a second before laughing at the innocent expression I put on. We head down the hall into the kitchen, where Bianca is chopping something with her back turned to us. Celia stands at the oven, removing a loaf of freshly burned bread. She glances up at us and smiles sweetly. Kyle spins several times on one of the bar stools, paying us no mind.

"Feel free to take a seat wherever you like," Tate says. "We'll be finished soon."

Kyle slams his paws on the kitchen island, jerking himself to a stop. He stares into space for several moments before saying "I'm gonna hurl," and hurrying to the bathroom. Rover scratches the back of his neck. Labelle stands between us, hands folded at her torso. I can only imagine what's going through their minds. Labelle is somewhat familiar with Kyle, but Rover isn't. That certainly wasn't the first impression I wanted him to have.

Bianca sets her knife down and turns to us, eyes widening immediately. Her fur puffs up a bit and her whiskers twitch.

"Am I, like, dreaming?!" she gasps, clutching the counter top.

Labelle giggles and waves. "No," she says. "Here I am."

Bianca turns to me and slaps at me with a towel. "You should've told me you were bringing her!" she growls. "The house is totally in shambles!"

We all look around, questioning Bianca's eyesight. Labelle waves a hand from the kitchen to the living room. "Your house is spotless, hon! It's beautiful!"

"You're just saying that!" Bianca cries. "I'm sorry Don brought you to a dump like this!"

Tate throws his hands up, nose crinkled to the side and brows furrowed. "Dump?" he says. "Babe,_ you_ chose this house! We've cleaned it a hundred times this week! Just 'cause we have an important guest doesn't mean the house falls apart!"

The others laugh as Bianca and Tate exchange a heated glance. Labelle interrupts, much to my relief.

"This is no dump," she says. "This is a wonderful home."

"But you're a celeb! You're used to all the high-class stuff!" argues Bianca.

"Take the compliment, dear. I love what I see here. It feels like a home. I may have money now, but that wasn't always the case. I came from nothing and was lucky enough to get a big break. I remember my roots."

Bianca stares at her for a moment before her distress turns into a smile. "Thank you."

"Yeah, thanks for shuttin' her up," laughs Tate. "She's so dramatic."

Labelle winks and nods.

Bianca tells me to help Celia finish while everyone gets introduced in the living room. I watch Celia struggle to knead the dough. She gets frustrated at the dough stuck in her wings and leans on the counter with a defeated grunt. I wash my hands and take over for her. "Slice the other loaf," I say. "I'll do this."

"It's burned," she sighs. "I'm not the best at baking."

"Let's do this next one right, then."

"Thanks, feathers."

"Anyway, it's good to see you again," I say. "It's been a while. How've you been, Celia?"

"I've been quite well," she says. "We've had a lot of clients at the salon lately. I've learned that human hair is a lot easier to trim than animals'. Thankfully, we have a nice balance of customers."

"That's good to hear."

"How about you, Donny? Things going nicely with Labelle?"

"We've seen each other pretty often over the past month and a half. We've only had two real dates, though. She pops into The Roost sometimes to see me. She's really pretty and she seems to understand me, but she's a bit...clingy. I like her, though."

"So, it's like that, huh? Have you told her how you feel about it?"

"Yes, but she still gets touchy. She's almost always holding me, if she gets the chance."

"Sorry, Donny. Still, I'm glad to hear you two are doing good otherwise. It warms my heart to see you passionate about something other than buildings and wandering for once."

She turns her beak away from me as I make a face. She giggles and nudges me with her wing. After we've finished preparing, we follow the sounds of laughter into the living room, taking a seat beside each other on a rather large ottoman. Tate and Bianca are busy giving Labelle and Rover a run-down on the neighborhood. Kyle returns from the bathroom, and upon seeing every seat taken, decides to sprawl out across Celia's lap and mine. Rover looks down at him and chuckles.

"So, alpha, you're Rover?" asks Kyle, scanning the blue cat.

Rover nods. "And you are?"

"Kyle! I was Don's first friend in town."

I gently tap Kyle's back. "You take great pride in that, don't you?" I ask.

"Damn right I do," he says, swinging his legs up and down as Celia tries to avoid being hit. "You know you wouldn't be as well off as you are without me!"

"Don't rub it in, wolf. I've been showing my gratitude for a long time. You've crashed in my apartment more times than I can count!"

"Because watchin' movies with you is great! I don't get to make fun of 'em that way when my grump of a roomie is around."

"It seems you've assembled a bit of a crew," Rover says to me. "I like your friends."

"So," says Bianca as she turns to Labelle. "You and Don are totally gonna be an item soon, right?"

Labelle bursts into laughter and reaches over, holding my hand. "Honestly," she begins, "I feel it may be quite soon."

I hold my tongue.

"Don doesn't get hooked on much," Rover says. "Ever since we were kids, he's been blank about a lot. He talks about all sorts of things, but it's hard to know if it ever holds any significance."

"So," I snort, "we're just gonna make fun of me, now?"

"I mean it with respect, Donder. It makes me kinda proud to see you with your new group..."

The awkward silence is broken by Bianca's teases. Labelle waits for silence again before speaking up. "Like I was saying," she starts, "I enjoy Don's company. He's a great guy. He'd be even better if he'd hurry up and date me, but what can you do?"

Bianca and Celia find amusement in Labelle's words.

"Be patient," I mutter, a bit more irritated by Labelle's progressiveness than I'd like to be. "Don't forget that you agreed that we need to take it slow."

"It's been almost two whole months," Labelle groans. "And we've only had two real dates! I don't wanna keep visiting you at work as a friend forever! Take me out on another date so I can kiss you already!"

Celia, Bianca, and Kyle seem overjoyed at the display they're witnessing. "That's right!" Bianca shouts, "Work for it, sweetheart!"

Tate and Rover give me sympathetic half-smiles and wait for the girls to settle down. Thankfully, Kyle takes over. As he and Bianca begin to question Labelle about her brand and life of "luxury", I decide to head out front. The sound of cicadas humming from the trees fills my ears and the humid air immediately sticks to my skin. It's an uncomfortably hot afternoon. This suburb is a nice break from the urban jungles I've spent most of my life in, even if every house looks nearly the same. After all the time I've lived in cities, I forgot lawns were good for something other than mowing. A barbecue over there, kids playing in the sprinkler over there—it's roomy and less congested. That being said, I wonder what Isabelle's island is like. She said she'd fly me out there sometime. I should catch up with her.

The only person who hasn't arrived to lunch is... Fang. I shudder at the thought of his name. He hasn't been on my mind too much recently. He's been avoiding me ever since Labelle entered the picture. He even booked out of my floor's laundry room when he saw me in there, once. Regardless, Labelle is my business. Whatever he has against her is his problem. Then again, it could very well turn into my problem. What if Fang sees her and loses it?

His SUV is coming down the cul-de-sac right now.

I turn to the side, one hand on the porch banister and the other on my hip. I swat gnats away from my face and swear under my breath as frustration takes over. I hear a car door shut and I turn back to face the front yard. Fang makes his way to the steps, attention focused on his cellphone. His tail swishes slightly as he walks up to the porch. He looks at me and stops, pocketing his cellphone rather forcefully, his claw nearly tearing the pocket of his jeans.

"Everyone else inside?" he asks, quietly.

"Mhm," I hum, looking to the side.

"I'm not too late, am I?"

"Just in time."

I take a deep breath and follow him into the house. As he slips his shoes off at the front, I hurry past him and into the living room. I glance at Labelle, stomach in knots, and sit down beside her. She looks at me with her brows furrowed and lightly touches my hand.

"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" she asks.

As Fang's footsteps approach, I feel my legs turn to jelly. He enters the room and everyone turns to him.

"Hey, buddy!" shouts Kyle.

Fang doesn't respond. He stares at Labelle, his yellow eyes opened wide for once. Labelle looks up at him and nods, then quickly looks down. She stares at the floor, biting her lip. Fang silently walks to Kyle's side and sits down.

"What took ya so long?" asks Kyle, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air.

"Leif wanted me to hose down the garden center before I clocked out," says Fang in a monotone voice, not taking his eyes off of Labelle for a second. She looks up from the floor for a moment and reciprocates Fang's glare.

"How are you, Label?" asks Fang, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap.

"I'm well," says the hedgehog. "And you?"

"Survivin'."

The rest of us exchange uncomfortable glances. Bianca stands up and breaks the tense mood. "N-Now that everyone's here," she stammers, "let's eat!"

Labelle and I hang back in the living room as everyone else heads to the kitchen. She stands in front of me, arms crossed and uncertainty on her face.

"What's going on?" I ask. "There's obviously history between you and Nook, and now I have to worry about Fang, too?"

"It's not important," she mumbles. "Fang and I were friends a long time ago."

"Apparently something's still up. The issue with Tom is your business, but Fang is... well... I'm not sure if we're friends at the moment, but you get my concern. It's more personal to me."

"Please, love," she says, gently caressing my side, "it's a long story. I want to enjoy time with you and your friends. Not right now."

"Stories for another time," I mumble. "Like you said. I'll hold you to it."

She follows me into the kitchen. Fortunately, Celia pulls her into a conversation. Tate, Kyle, and Rover stand by the refrigerator, chuckling to themselves. As much as I want to sit to myself and ponder Labelle's affiliations, something about this whole mess has me wanting to distance myself from Labelle the most. I go to the guys and do my very best to push the ordeal out of mind. I tune in to the tail-end of their discussion, which is unsurprisingly about Rover and me.

"Are you running your mouth again?" I ask, forcing an upbeat tone as I put my arm around Rover.

"As a matter of fact, I am," he laughs. "Your friend Tate asked me if we'd ever travelled together."

Tate shrugs at me and mimics the innocent face I made earlier. "Always talkin' about where you've been and want to go. But you never really talk about the things that have gone on in those places."

"For a reason, Tate. I try to push those places out of my head! If they were happy ones, I wouldn't have moved so much!"

"C'mon, Donder," coos Rover. "Let me tell 'em about our first time on the train."

"Ro... we got hopelessly lost. Our parents almost killed us."

"Tell me!" says Tate.

I sigh and motion for Rover to continue.

"This was back before Don and I became teenagers," Rover says. "I'm sure he's mentioned to you guys that he's lived in a lot of places, right?"

"Yes," says Tate.

"Well, he managed to rope me into one of his little trips one day after school. He wanted to go to Animal Forest. It was a Friday, and since we didn't have anything better to do, I went with him."

"Woah," interrupts Kyle, "Animal Forest? You mean that first animal settlement? That's on the other side of the continent from here."

"Don and I grew up in Pendle. Animal Forest is even farther away from there."

Tate and Kyle look at me in disbelief as Rover goes on. "Why did you want to go so far?" asks Tate. I rub my arm and try to think of a reasonable answer. "I wanted bragging rights," I say. "Pendle didn't have a lot of animal residents, so I figured it'd make the humans more interested in them if I came back with stories."

"Right little activist, aren't you?" says Kyle.

"Just wanted to make Rover and K.K. feel at home. Population was growing, and not with many animals."

Kyle looks me up and down, a faint smirk curling onto his muzzle. "I kinda see it now," he says. "You've got a little bit left in you, don't you, alpha?"

"Yes, I do. That's why I started travelling. I wanted to find a bigger place to live with all sorts of different people. Then it turned into a more personal thing. Sorta just turned into a search for a home where I wouldn't run into trouble."

"You know that's kind of impossible, right?"

"That word will go straight through Don's ear and out the other," says Rover.

"Just how many places have you lived since you moved out of your hometown?" asks Kyle.

"Little Hill, Amberkeep, Finkene, and now Oraton. Settled in Finkene for the longest because my mother told me I needed to complete my Bachelor's. I'd already done two years of college through community online. Little Hill and Amberkeep were shitty places, so that's why I never talk about them."

"What made them so bad?"

"People were nasty to each other. Those that were somewhat decent ended up loading me with their own issues, expecting me to make it all go away. So, I'd move to the next town, hoping it'd be different. Then the cycle would just repeat."

"That why you left Finkene?"

"Yeah, and it was really expensive. Anyway to finish Rover's story, we didn't even get four towns over from Pendle before it became dark and we were certain we'd never get home."

"Yeah," adds Rover. "Our parents came to pick us up, and Don and I weren't allowed to see each other for almost a month. I'm sure Tota was a bit lonely without us."

Tate and Rover laugh to themselves. Kyle stands to the side, grinning at his phone. His tail begins to wag. His ears perk up immediately at the ding of his phone. "Remember that cute guy I pointed out at work the other day?" he asks me.

"Yeah?" I say.

"He just agreed to a date next week!"

"Good on you, man. It's about time, too. You've been pining over him for a while."

Rover takes over the conversation once more, giving me time to breathe and back away from everyone. I decide to join the girls for a few moments. They're busy talking about their favorite pieces from Gracie's newest clothing line. I stand close to Labelle, gently bumping against her back. She looks up at me and smiles, leaning back into me.

"Tired of the guys?" she asks.

"Just a little," I say. "You enjoying yourself?"

"Absolutely. I adore your friends."

"I'm certainly glad to hear that."

I squeeze her hips, earning a yelp and soft smack from her. I find Fang out front on the porch. He's leaned over the banister, staring at an anthill. I watch the tiny insects trample each other as they make their way in and out, my vision becoming fuzzy at the blur of movement. I blink myself out of it as Fang turns to me, coldness in his eyes. He takes a few steps toward me, his form blocking the sun from my view. The tall grey wolf leans down to me, his pupils beginning to dilate as he stares at me.

"I don't know what game you're playing," he growls, "but I told you to stay away from her."

"What's it to you?" I snap, eyes darting away and doing my best to ignore the quivering in my legs.

"She's bad news. She isn't who you think she is."

"That's for me to judge. I'll hear her side of the story."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Do you think she'll be honest with you?"

"What do you mean...?"

"She screwed me over a long time ago. We were dating. Talked about getting married, even. She'd go on and on about how perfect I was, only for me to find out she'd been in bed with a stranger. Chances are, she's already done something like that to you."

"I'm not dating her."

"Isn't that what it's gonna turn into, though? That's not an excuse. Listen to me, Donovan. Think about it."

"There's got to be something else to it. The way she talks about love wouldn't come from someone who'd do something like that without a reason. You must've played a part."

"You're justifying cheating?"

"N-No, I just... I..."

He leans away from my face and stands up straight. He straightens the collar of his shirt and sighs.

"I'm only trying to help you out, kid," he mutters. "You should get away from her before it's too late. Dating celebrities gives you a nasty look into a world that will hurt you. You'll be pulled into the limelight, only to be thrown away like trash."

"She's for me to worry about, so lay off a bit. It shouldn't be important to you anymore."

"I can't help but get pissed when I see Label's face. Especially around you. She's just gonna use you."

"Don't act like you're concerned about me. If you were, you wouldn't be so damn aggressive. You're just focused on Labelle. Are you still in love with her or something? Jealous?"

"I am concerned about you, but you keep ignoring me. You're gonna wish you'd listened to me when you get your heart broken," he says.

"Come on, man, just drop this."

"Not all of us can hop on a train and run away from our problems as easily as you."

I stare at him, thoughts swirling in my head like a cyclone. Above all of them—confusion, dread, and anxiety-one emotion is strongest: anger. The judgmental expression painted on Fang's face makes him look like a stranger. He no longer resembles the reserved, but friendly wolf I used to know. His cold stare used to hold a semblance of concern, but now it's an empty pit that seems to be reserved for me. He looks down on me, priding himself in something I can't know.

The front door opens. Labelle steps out in a hurry, visibly upset. She's got her phone in her hand, as if she'd just gotten out of a call with someone. Fang slips past her and heads back inside.

"What's up?" I ask.

"I have to leave," Labelle says. "Gracie just called me and told me she can't make it to an interview, so she dumped it on me."

"Can't you tell her you don't want to do it?"

"It's supposed to be on some talk show. It'll be televised. Gracie's been talking about it for months, but she mixed up the dates and is out on vacation. She needs me to fill in."

"Ugh... I'm sorry about that. Need me to take you?"

"No, love. One of her drivers is on his way now. Already gave him the address." She leans on the banister and sighs. "I knew something would come up. Something told me today would be ruined."

"It'll be okay, Labelle."

"Oh, enough with that! My name is Label. I'm tired of all this branding..."

"S-Sorry...Label."

"I don't want to deal with Gracie's problems right now. It's so last minute..."

I do my best to console her, deciding it best not to mention Fang at the moment. I stand outside with her and gently stroke her quills until a shiny black sedan pulls up. Label gives me a quick hug and hurries to the vehicle.

"I'll call you tonight!" she shouts as the vehicle takes off through Teach.

I stare down the street, watching two human women remove the training wheels from a boy's bicycle. The boy, overjoyed, takes his first push without support. He falls over immediately, but gets back up and tries again, smiling all the while. I head inside the house, closing the door behind me on the cicadas' song.


	7. Chapter 7

It's a quiet evening—something I don't get often. I finally mustered the energy to walk across the street to the shoreline. Rover and I climbed inside an old lifeguard tower, where we continue to sit. There are a few life preservers and jackets on the wall, which is littered with carved messages.

"Look at this one," Rover says, pointing to a heart on the ceiling. I flash my phone's light on it to read the words carved in the heart.

_**C.J. and Flick**_

I smile with peaceful exhalation. Rover stares up at the carving and snorts. "This looks kind of old," he scoffs. "Think they're still together?"

"If they were in love," I begin, "I hope they still are now, whoever they are."

Rover stands up on the tip of his toes and reads the rest of the carvings. Most of them are profanities and random phone numbers, but there are a few heartfelt messages. I stare at one to my left, scribbled in faded black marker.

_**I hope you're well, stranger. Most people don't climb up here unless they need some alone time. Whatever you may be going through, you will make it out okay.**_

Immediately under the message, the word "fuck" is spray painted on the wall. I take a moment to pout over the ruined sentiment before turning back to Rover. He sits against the old wooden wall, cross-legged and staring out toward the sea. I slide down against the wall and sit next to him. I stare out over the ocean. The light is low and it won't be long before the dark green hue of the sky melts into night. Clouds hang in the sky, obscuring the moon and stars. In the distance, thick white bands of rain fall from the clouds to the rough, dark ocean in wavy sheets. Several boats have begun to turn around and hightail it back to the docks. Thunder rumbles faintly. I shiver and lean my head back against the creaky wall. Rover and I share a moment of comfort. No words—only the sound of the waves and the approaching storm. The leaves of the palm trees begin to rustle more violently as time passes. Rover and I glance at each other and nod in quiet understanding.

"Where did you say Kyle was again?" he asks, several minutes later.

"He's on that date," I say. "He sweet-talked a customer at work last week. Remember, he mentioned it at Bianca's? Kyle and that guy have been goofing around for a little while, and Kyle's been over the moon about it."

"Ah, right..."

"Y'know, I'm happy for Kyle. He's a smug little flirt by nature, but this is the first time I've seen him with real hearts in his eyes."

"I barely know him, but I guess I'm happy for him too. You and him seem to be really close."

"I don't think I can recall a time where he wasn't always around."

"How'd you two even meet?"

"He and his roommate saw me moving in a long time ago and brought me some sweets. Then he landed me a job right after. He gives me hell all the time, but I don't think he knows how grateful I really am for him."

I pull my wallet from my pocket and slip some photos out. Alongside a few of Rover, Tota, and me, there are two new additions. I've a photo of my group of friends from our first get-together. It was my third week in town. Kyle wanted to introduce me to his group after work on a Tuesday. I really didn't want to join him. I was scheduled for opening shift the next morning, and that meant I needed to wake up by five in the morning at the latest. I was already drowsy, but Kyle seemed so excited about it that I caved. Fang took Kyle and me to meet everyone at an amphitheater in Lower Town for an outdoor comedy show. It was put on by some guy named Shrunk or something. He did a poor job, but at least he was having fun. Kyle pulled me to his friends, not once giving me some space. I was uncomfortable when I first saw Bianca standing there. I've met many animals in my life, but I'd never been so close to a tiger. Much to my relief, she turned out to be one of the sweetest people I know. I was happy to meet Tate, too. It made me feel a bit more at home to have another human in a friend group. Bianca seemed just as excited to meet me as Kyle first was, and Tate looked happy to see a human. Celia was the most nonchalant. She kept a respectable distance and didn't say much to me, only engaging me when the two of us were left out of a bigger conversation. I don't see Celia as much as I'd like to, but we never seem to lose any affection for each other. The others miss her too, but I know she keeps up with Bianca.

Fang, Bianca, and Tate stand in the back of the picture while Kyle has his arms around Celia and me in the front. Kyle's grip startled us, which is evident in the photo. The only one smiling is Fang, whose attention is focused solely on the camera. I stare at the photo a while longer, trying my best to push our clash out of mind.

"See this one?" I say, pointing to a different photo of just Kyle and me on my couch. "Almost every evening is just me and him. Kyle crashes with me so often that I tend to forget he has a home upstairs with Fang. Kyle and I will sit back after work and make fun of whatever's on the television, or he'll drag me through town on foot to explore."

"Sounds like Kyle keeps you busy," laughs Rover.

"Thankfully so."

Rover leans his head to the wall beside him and yawns. A group of teenagers wander the beach, just a few feet from the tower. They bundle together and snap several photos before the guys try to pull the girls toward the water. With a mix of shrieks and laughter, they stumble away and continue down the beach for more horseplay. I hear another yawn and look over at Rover. His face is nearly benighted by the darkness of the wooden enclosure, but parts of the white fur on his face remain visible.

"Don," he mumbles, "I think I'm gonna head back up to your place. I'm falling asleep in here."

"I'm going to stay out here for a while longer," I say, handing him my key.

He nods and stretches before descending the ladder to the sand. "Don't stay out too long," he says as he disappears from my sight. I turn my attention to the dark green waters before me once again. If there's a downpour, it'll be the first one here in a long time. Maybe that's what I need, though. Bustle keeps me distracted. The crashing of rain has always soothed my worry. However, my solitary confinement in this empty tower only amplifies it. With Rover leaving me to myself, I realize that I haven't been alone in a long time. Every evening is spent with Kyle. Before the fall out with Fang, I'd even spend time with him. I'm always _with_ someone. Part of me feels as if I'm lacking maturity. I work hard, pay my bills, and sustain myself. Well, I work as hard as you can in a café, I suppose. Still, it seems as if my time consists of nothing but playing around with friends. When the whole group can't do something, it's still always Kyle and me. It's as if I always have time to goof off. Then again, wouldn't most people love to be in my shoes? A good job, loving friends, and enough time to enjoy my early twenties? I've even got a rich celebrity in love with me. It's almost too damn good to be true, yet somehow, it still feels like it's all filling some hole.

Perhaps I'd feel older if I didn't leave my degree sitting to collect dust in my closet. Then again, if I'd swallowed my pride and stayed in Finkene, I wouldn't have met the ones I have now. I'd have probably put my degree to use, but I'd still be in that same city with the same faces that made me want to leave in the first place. Trouble follows me, it seems, as it's made its way to Oraton. Label's clinginess is both flattering and annoying at times, and even though I complain about it, it's not real trouble. It's what you go through when you want to be with someone. Now, Tom Nook's pleas for me to be his messenger to his former lover is a different matter. _That_ could become trouble, especially if he holds me to it. It's amazing to think that such a small request can actually be such a risky one, and that it could cause me so much distress. Label hates Tom, but Tom loves her sister. I'm in the middle of it, expected to comply with both parties' wishes. I'll be pulled in both directions by my girlfriend and landlord...

Girlfriend? No, not just yet. There's a weight on my chest, and I can't tell if it's some sort of upset or longing. Longing for the ability to understand myself, I think. Either that or longing for Label. Her voice makes me feel at ease. She never ended up calling me after she had to hurry off to Gracie's interview last week. We haven't had a real conversation since then—only concise check-ins. This Saturday, however, I feel like I'm going to let a bit more love show than I should.

I run my hands through my hair and grunt in frustration. It's only been minutes since Rover left me in here and I've already picked my mind apart. I'm supposed to find solace in a setting like this; isolated in safety as beautiful hell approaches from the ocean. I'm using it for the exact opposite reason.

The growing thunder mocks me. Raindrops began to fall slowly at first. The sound of plips spread out before they get louder and faster. Thanking nature for interrupting my thoughts, I scramble to the ladder. I slip and plummet off the platform into the sand below. I lie there for a second, wheezing and swearing before getting up. I take off across the beach toward the dunes, kicking sand up with each step. The rain begins to unleash its fury when I make it to my building's parking lot. I enter the lobby of the building, completely soaked. The receptionist at the front desk scowls at me as I track sand across the carpet. "I'm sorry!" I call, hurrying to the elevator. I enter the elevator with a black kangaroo and her lethargic-looking joey. The mother hums to herself as we ascend, occasionally raising a brow at me. "Did you get caught in the rain?" asks the joey, in an Australian accent, unsurprisingly. His mother lightly taps his head and frowns at him. "Obviously he did," she says. Once I'm on my floor, I enter my apartment and waste no time in disrobing and drying off.

Rover sits on my couch with a blanket, watching a documentary on my television. "Thought you were sleepy," I say.

"So did I," he says.

Everything outside my window is grey, the only visible figures being the palm trees bent over in the whipping wind. I pour coffee for the two of us and settle down next to him on the pullout. Rover and I listen to the rhythmic drumming of the rain, periodically glancing at the remote, but never making the effort to raise the volume. There's a different dynamic between Rover and me than I have with Kyle. Kyle and I will go on and on about ourselves to each other, sometimes oversharing risqué information. Rover keeps his feelings much more reserved, preferring to keep things to himself. He'll ask about me, but doesn't tell me too much about what he's been into. Rover's been with me since the very beginning of my childhood, but I'd be lying if I told myself I didn't feel hurt after learning of his connection with Tom. I understand that Rover is his own person and doesn't owe anyone anything. Still, he feels distant. He feels like a different person. It's a big difference between Rover's faint aloofness and Kyle's chaotic friendship. Almost like I don't truly know the guy I've called my best friend for so long.

"Hey Ro," I begin, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he says.

"Where do you go when you travel?"

"I go everywhere, Donder. If I don't get off at one stop, I keep riding the train to the next, and so on."

"Why do you do that, exactly?"

"Travelling is the best way to meet people. I love seeing what characters I run into in the world."

He smiles for a moment before giving me a puzzled look. "Why do you ask, all of a sudden? Does this have something to do with Tom?"

"I'm not gonna deny it. I guess it makes me feel like I don't know you as well as I thought."

"Mya ha ha! I know many people, yes. I've been to many places and there are just a lot of things you wouldn't know. I've never mentioned it because I figured it wasn't important. Don't worry about it, Donder."

"...That's it?"

"Hm?"

"You're not gonna say anything else? No explanation?"

"What, do you think I've got eyes and ears in a gang or something?" he laughs and shakes his head at me. "Don't worry about me. I'm the same old Rover."

"Apparently I never knew that Rover to begin with..."

"What did you say? Are you upset that you don't know all my business? All the people I know? That's not very fair, Don."

"N-No, it's just...I feel like you would've mentioned it..."

"You don't know everyone I know, and I don't know everyone you know. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, it's just...different. For y-your part, I mean. You don't just know people-you work with them. I just feel like it's kind of..."

"Shady?"

I say nothing and watch him. His face falls as he stares at me. "Nice to see that's what you really think of your best friend."

"Rover, come on. I didn't mean-"

"Ugh," he groans, rubbing his face. "You and your other friends may tell each other whatever you guys want, but you know I'm not like that. I've always been this way. I like to have another half to my life, and you shouldn't whine about that..."

"...I'm sorry, Ro. You're right."

"Let's finish watching this, yeah? No more talk."

His tail swishes with irritation. The white tip thumps every few seconds on the cushions. Rover fixes his gaze on the television. I sigh to myself and look to my door. I pushed too much, I know I did. I'm a bit smothering...

* * *

An hour into the documentary, my door swings open. I shout and jump to my feet as my heart thumps in my chest. Rover's tail is puffed up in shock. I'm relieved to see that it's Kyle. He closes the door and tosses his keys on the counter, not once lifting his face from the ground. I lay back on the couch and watch him. He takes his leather jacket off and tosses it to the coat rack, missing it by a longshot. It sits on the floor in a crumpled mound. He slips his shoes off and trudges over to the bathroom without a word. We hear the shower turn on and Kyle closes the door behind him.

Over half an hour later, Kyle finally emerges from the bathroom. Rover has already fallen asleep on the couch, so I've retreated to my bedroom. Kyle opens my door and enters. "Hey," I say, as he softly closes the door. "What's up?"

He says nothing and crawls into bed with me, laying atop my body. He buries his head in the crook of my neck. "Whoa, there..." I say. "Why so touchy?"

I shift uncomfortably and shoot a worried glance around the room as I try to wiggle out from under Kyle. He throws his arm over me and squeezes me. "He played me," he sighs, keeping his face concealed. "He fuckin' played me..."

"What?"

"The whole thing was a joke. He acted like he was into me just to catch me off my guard. Then he humiliated me in front of his friends."

Kyle's voice falters a bit, and I feel goosebumps form on my arms as I make out a faint sob. "Right when I was having the time of my life," He says, shaking against me.

"I'm so sorry," I say. "I'm right here."

He throws his leg over me and cuddles me. "I'm sorry," he says, "I know this is really weird and everything, but I really just want to be held."

"I suppose it isn't any weirder than you grabbing my ass all the time."

He doesn't snicker or make any sound. The wolf's face remains concealed.

"Let's get some sleep," I say. "Happy thoughts; loving friends, concert this Saturday!"

"Thanks, Don..."

He says nothing more, only nodding and scooting into me. I lie on my bed with my weeping friend, his breath soft and warm on my neck. I stare at the ceiling silently as millions of thoughts clash in my mind, caressing Kyle's back in the darkness as the rain washes away what I called a good evening not too long ago.


End file.
